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Arts

New streaming platform opens Concordia students to experimental film

Vithèque, a self-proclaimed digital anti-giant, offers access to more than 2,000 titles

Since Spring of 2019, the online streaming service Vithèque has been available to students of the Mel Hoppenheim School of Cinema through the school’s library website. The new platform is now   on a campaign to encourage Concordia students to use it. They have been touring the university’s classes and advertising their services all November.

Vithèque has been serving as the online streaming platform of Vidéographe since 2017. It is a film production and distribution company that was founded as a division of the National Film Board of Canada (NFB) in 1971. Two years later, Vidéographe became independent of the NFB, and has been growing ever since. While they don’t directly produce as much content themselves nowadays, they still help Quebec artists push the boundaries of experimental filmmaking and video art. They offer workshops, residency programs, bursaries, equipment and more.

Their work encompasses animation, multimedia art, video essays, documentary, dance videos and some fiction. Their new platform, Vithèque, brings together their entire archive, and makes it available to their subscribers.

“We’re a good alternative to mainstream streaming services such as Netflix, because not only is our offer more interesting if you’re looking for more specific auteur films, […] Vithèque also pays the artists better,” said Karine Boisvert, who put together the platform for Vidéographe.

She added that 50 per cent of the platform’s revenues go directly to the content creators. Vithèque and Vidéographe function like NGOs; their main goal is to give back to the community of artists they work with. The other half of the revenue helps to keep the platform functioning, extending their public and funding additional services for artists.

“It’s the subscribers and agreements with schools and libraries which allow us to keep expanding,” said Boisvert. “Since the beginning, Concordia seemed like an important collaborator for us, along with UQAM, because of its large film program and interest in experimental filmmaking.”

Pierre Falardeau, Robert Morin, Anne Émond, Pierre Hébert and Sylvie Laliberté are among the most well-known artists to have their work available on Vithèque. The platform’s website claims it hosts films “documenting key events in contemporary Quebec, such as the workers movement, the October crisis, the feminist movement, counterculture and LGBTQ2+ affirmation.”

Some video installations which Montrealers might have seen in a gallery or museum could also very much be found on Vithèque. For example, Chloë Lum and Yannick Desranleau’s What Do Stones Smell Like in the Forest, which was displayed at the Montreal Museum of Contemporary Art (MAC) this summer, is also available on the website.

Vidéographe adds about 30 new titles to its collection every year. Whether it be to deepen their research or just to explore Quebec experimental film history, at home, on a rainy Sunday afternoon, Concordia students now have access to an even wider array of possibilities.

For more details, visit https://vitheque-com.lib-ezproxy.concordia.ca/en/home.

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Arts

The growth of a filmmaker and the subjectivity of truth

 Director Yung Chang discusses his experience at Concordia and his new film This is Not a Movie. 

A first generation Chinese-Canadian born in Oshawa, Ontario, Yung Chang graduated from Concordia’s Mel Hoppenheim School of Cinema in 1999. He is now known for directing known for films like Up the Yangtze, China Heavyweight and his newest documentary, This is Not a Movie.

At Concordia, Chang built strong relationships with professors, one of which became a producer on all of his films until he moved away from Montreal.

“That city is so much a part of my development and growth as an artist and filmmaker,” he said. 

Chang said that building relationships like these was one of the benefits he got from the program, adding that “Concordia has a very strong cinema program, and I particularly remember that the emphasis is on cinema as art.”

At a young age, his parents exposed him to a variety of cultural experiences, film and theatre, such as the Young People’s Theatre in Toronto, which stages productions for children. This sparked the dream to become a filmmaker.

“My father used to rent super 8mm reels and he had a projector and he would play them for my brother and I in the basement,” Chang said. “There was something about that, my father loading the super 8 into the projector and setting up the screen and the whirring of the machine and just sitting there and watching something projected like that. It was stuck in my brain.”

These experiences set the scene for his interest in the visual arts, storytelling, and ultimately, his career as a filmmaker. It was after studying at the Neighborhood Playhouse School of the Theatre in New York City that Chang started the groundwork of his first full-length documentary, Up The Yangtze, after his parents invited him to a cruise trip in China.

“Things just sort of snowballed thereafter,” he said, “I sort of discovered that this is a way I could tell stories.”

In his first year at Concordia in 1996, he was expected to shoot on 16mm film; this refers to the width of a piece of film stock, and it was one of the smaller sizes used in film.

“Back in the day, it was very much a hands-on thing,” he said. This helped Chang realize that film was a physical process that required careful consideration.

“You cut it, tape it, put it together, I think that process slows you down and makes you think a little more about how you want to put something together,” said Chang. 

Graduating at 21, Chang had bold expectations about life and in hindsight remarks that it’s rare to make a masterpiece right out of film school.

“Those expectations have to be tapered down a little, but not so much that you lose the spark that you had,” he said. “ I had to go on a journey outside of film school to find my voice.”

Chang’s newest documentary, This Is Not A Movie, premiered at the Toronto International Film Festival in September, and made its Quebec premiere on Nov. 17 and 18. The film focuses on foreign correspondent Robert Fisk whose life’s work is dedicated to documenting the Middle East. There are many reasons why Chang was inspired to make a film about Fisk, including the “very urgent question about ‘what is the role of media’ and ‘what is the role of the written word’ in this new world in which we consume.”

He continued by explaining how the sheer amount of information today is shocking, and it can be difficult to discern what is real and what is fake.

“So, who do we lean to? Who are the people that we can trust?,” he asked. 

To Chang, Fisk is a part of the last generation of “boots on the ground, pad and paper” reporters.

“If anything, somebody who’s been around for forty years, doggedly reporting ‘the truth’ must have some insight into what journalism is,” he said.

Fisk is able to delineate complex places, events or wars for people in a way that mainstream media does not. Chang and his team did not want to make a political film.

Instead, they wanted to hear what Fisk had to say, allowing space for the audience to criticize him as he’s such a controversial figure.

“We want you to not agree with him, we want you to question it, but sit through the movie and feel through the ideas he presents,” Chang said. 

This is Not a Movie is about the subjectivity of truth, our complicity of war and questioning our beliefs in journalism. It’s an urgent film, made for today.

Chang ended by emphasizing that we need media literacy education to help people weed through the bombardment of information we face every day. This is precisely why we need people like Fisk. Chang hopes that this film will inspire new journalists, filmmakers and anyone who watches to have a deep understanding of how we interact with “the idea of truth”. 

For now, This is Not a Movie will continue its festival tour and is set to be screened at DOC NYC and the International Documentary Film Festival Amsterdam. It’s set to be theatrically released in Canada, in March 2020.

 

 

With files from the National Film Board of Canada.

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Student Life

Do more with less

“Love people and use things, because the opposite never works”

Minimalism: A Documentary About the Important Things is a film following two men, who have titled themselves “The Minimalists,” on a 10-month tour across America promoting their book Everything that Remains.

Released in 2016, this documentary directed by Matt D’Avella captures the lives of Joshua Fields Millburn and Ryan Nicodemus. Friends for over 20 years, they considered themselves, and were considered by others to be successful. Despite having both endured rough childhoods scattered with drug abuse, physical abuse and alcoholism, the two found themselves with good jobs, great salaries, food on the table and a full closet. Despite all this, they questioned why they were unhappy with how their lives turned out.

After hearing about minimalism, Millburn and Nicodemus dropped everything and adopted the principles of minimalism.

“Imagine a life with less. Less stuff, less clutter, less stress, and debt, and discontent. A life with fewer distractions,” said Millburn. “Now, imagine a life with more. More time, more meaningful relationships, more growth and contribution and contentment.”

The concept of minimalism is simple: every possession serves a purpose. As human beings in a society obsessed with consumerism, our options for nearly everything in life are limited. Yet, these nearly infinite options force us to make more decisions, thus causing more stress. Minimalism is about minimizing one’s life so that everything in it has value.

“Every choice that I make, every relationship, every item, every dollar I spend,” said Nicodemus. “I’m not perfect, but I do constantly ask the question: is this adding value?”

A key dimension of minimalism, while not actively discussed in the documentary, is purchasing power, and ultimately accessibility. Those who can hardly afford a bus pass or the next meal for their families likely won’t be concerned with hybrid vehicles or buying organic food because it isn’t within their purchasing power to do so. Minimalism and to what degree people are able to minimize their consumption, if at all, will invariably differ from family to family based on what means they do, or don’t, have access to.

The pair noticed how minimalism drastically improved their way of life and allowed them to be more genuine. Having previously worked in the sales industry, they thought every interaction should get something out of someone. After quitting their jobs, they were able to have genuine conversations with people and no longer see them as a means to make money.

Stories of individuals across the country who have adopted a minimalist lifestyle, and preach a better quality of life because of it, are portrayed in the documentary. One woman spoke about Project 333, a goal to live three months with only 33 articles of clothing and accessories to her name. Others live in minimalist homes about the size of a typical bedroom. All these interviews occur while clips of America’s mass-consumption lifestyle are juxtaposed in the background. Videos of Black Friday frenzies and physical violence for retail goods open the audience’s eyes to our society’s obsession with material things.

The Minimalists conclude their story by leaving viewers with one message of hope: “Love people and use things, because the opposite never works.”

Featured film still from Minimalism directed by Matt D’vella

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Student Life

A new chapter for documentary films

Envisioning inclusion and documenting the imagined future of marginalized groups

At first glance, ‘Documentary Futurism’ might seem like an oxymoron—if the future has yet to happen, how can it be documented in the tradition of nonfiction storytelling? In their newest project, Cinema Politica seeks to answer that question the way they know best; through the creation and sharing of radical, independent documentaries.

“We came up with this idea of documentary futurism through being inspired by all of the Indigenous film programming we’ve been doing, in collaboration with Indigenous filmmakers and curators,” said Ezra Winton, co-founder and director of programming of the Cinema Politica film network.

“It’s bringing together documentary conventions and ideas of speculation and the imagination, even the fantastical.” Winton noted that, while nonfiction and speculation has been brought together in other forms, the combination has largely gone untouched in the documentary world.

Enhior:hén:ne [Tomorrow], directed by Roxann Whitebean. Enhior’hén:ne explores Mohawk children’s predictions about the state of mother earth 200 years into the future.
“The idea of being forward-looking with documentary has partially come out of 15 years of programming documentaries where the vast majority have focused on the past and the present, and the future part is always just the last 10 minutes,” said Winton. “We’re more interested in the whole thing being more forward-looking and that means not just envisioning inclusion, but ideas about social justice.”

After receiving the Canada Council for the Arts (CCA) New Chapter grant, the project itself started to shift from an imagined future to a reality.

“We called [the CCA] right away to ask, is this just to celebrate, or can this be critical?” recalled Winton. “And they told us they’re calling it the New Chapter for a reason. That they’re more interested in critical perspectives and less about national chauvinism.”

Project coordinator James Goddard came on board not long after, bringing with him knowledge of afrofuturism and experience working in the interdisciplinary speculative arts.

Enhior:hén:ne [Tomorrow], directed by Roxann Whitebean.
Goddard points to the work of Indigenous futurism and afrofuturism, the latter having garnered much attention since the recent release of Black Panther, as the driving force behind the new genre. “[People] are interested in the ways in which marginal groups tell stories about the future,” he said.

“The importance of that, especially for Indigenous groups in Canada, is that there have been literal legislative maneuvers right up until the 90s that the government was doing to erase Indigenous people, to eradicate the possibility of a future. So when Indigenous people tell stories about their presence in the future, it’s an important form of resistance. And that’s true of almost every marginalized community that has experienced a history of erasure.”

Cinema Politica put out a call for film proposals in September 2017. They received over 70 applications, which were then passed on to a panel of jurors for deliberation.

“It was doubly experimental because we removed ourselves from the selection process too,” added Goddard. “Had we played more of a role in the actual selection process, more of our pre-existing ideas about what we wanted from the project would have bled into that.”

We might have been heroes / Nous aurions pu être des héros, directed by Andrés Salas-Parra. In a world with nothing left to mine, communication has become the main resource for humanity to exist. The challenge? To stay connected.

Among the jurors is Nalo Hopkinson, a prolific author of six novels, including Brown Girl in the Ring, which Goddard described as a “landmark text for speculative fiction and afrofuturism.” Joining her is Skawennati, a media artist whose work addresses the past and present from an Indigenous perspective, and award-winning filmmaker Danis Goulet, who produced, wrote and directed the film Wakening, a source of inspiration for the project.

The jury deliberated based on their collective interpretation of the project goals, finally arriving at the 15 films commissioned to inaugurate the new genre. “There’s a lot of variation in the themes they deal with. Obviously a lot of the films deal with environmental collapse, one film in particular focuses on exploring sexuality and gender variants, there’s a film that looks at corporate culture, and a number of the Indigenous films engage with the idea of what happens after the settlers leave,” said Goddard.

“We really encouraged the artists to interpret it as they wanted to, politically, aesthetically, everything. We just basically set the canvas, and even then the edges of the canvas can still unfurl,” said Winton. “My expectations were just that this was going to be interesting and hopefully, probably, amazing. And my expectations were met.”

In the tradition of Cinema Politica, Winton hopes the films will not only start conversations about the alternate realities they present, but serve as a catalyst for grassroots social movements unafraid to look towards an imagined, brighter future. “We’re always tackling present, day-to-day issues, and that’s important, but also imagining a post-capitalist, post-colonial, post-gender binary, post-whatever it is, it’s exciting and it can be politically transformative.”

Featured film still from Lost Alien, directed by Tobias c. van Veen.

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Student Life

An exploration of unresolved family conflict

Memories of a Penitent Heart delves into the height of the AIDS crisis at Cinema Politica screening

Cecilia Aldarondo’s documentary, Memories of a Penitent Heart, began with a question: “If we only remember the good things about the people we love, what do we lose?” Her search for the answer led to the excavation of a guarded family history at the site of her uncle Miguel’s death. The documentary screened at the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts on Feb. 15 as part of Cinema Politica’s winter series, in conjunction with the Concordia University Community Lecture Series on HIV/AIDS.

Miguel, who died of AIDS complications when Aldarondo was only six, became an elusive figure in her family. A cross-generational game of broken telephone seemed to obscure the circumstances of his death and the nature of his life. “I started sensing that something was really amiss in the way that he was talked about,” Aldarondo said. A persistent curiosity sent her back a generation to the height of the AIDS crisis in New York City, where her uncle lived at the time, and to the doorstep of his lost lover. “It is a personal film; it’s about family,” Aldarondo said. “It’s a film about memory.”

The story is guided by the tangible, material objects that house these memories: handwritten letters, dusty negatives, reels of Super 8 home movies, photographs—a seemingly endless trove of assorted archives. Aldarondo unpacks them on screen, weaving in the residual people and places from Miguel’s life through intimate interviews and the construction of a family tree with new, unexpected branches.

Polaroid photos of Miguel and his family, as seen in Memories of a Penitent Heart.

The film grapples with the complexity of Miguel’s identity, fractured by the social circumstances of his life. His experience as an immigrant in New York City, at a time when racism, homophobia and the stigma around AIDS were pervasive forces, placed Miguel in the precarious position of a cultural outsider.

The nuances of his identity were reserved for specific audiences, none of whom accepted Miguel in his entirety. “Popular depictions of bigotry tend to be extreme,” Aldarondo said of her uncle’s limited belonging in American society. “The story of exclusion tends to be more subtle.”

Over the course of the film, Aldarondo resurrects Miguel as the multidimensional person he was, not just who his family wanted him to be remembered as: Miguel the son, the brother, the uncle, the friend. He was also known as “Michael” the American actor to some, and Miguel the gay man, the Catholic, the Puerto Rican, the outsider to others.

It was important for Aldarondo to recognize the overbearing presence of religion throughout Miguel’s life, starting with his upbringing in an ultra-religious family in Puerto Rico. “Part of what I think about is the secularization of narratives around AIDS, and the way in which we talk about this notion that religion was only ever bad for queer people,” she said. “It forced me to try to see things in a more nuanced way.”

Aldarondo had to acknowledge her own contemporary biases and relationships with the people involved to reconcile the social and cultural chasms opened up by time. “It’s an ethical minefield,” she admitted. Bridging the gap between generations also meant navigating the devastating aftermath of the AIDS crisis. “I was really ill-prepared for the level of pain and unresolved grief that they all felt as a community,” said Aldarondo about members of the gay community who knew Miguel.

A collection of family photographs, as seen in Memories of a Penitent Heart.

The documentary depicts how the AIDS crisis, as well as the art, activism and social repercussions it produced, doesn’t occupy the same space in contemporary dialogue as other social movements from the past.

Like Miguel’s story, the epidemic is largely remembered through the lens of the mainstream media, a depiction that isn’t necessarily representative of the entire complex struggle. Aldarondo learned that identity politics were as present among the communities affected by the AIDS crisis as they were in Miguel’s own life.

“I do think of the film as a kind of intimate activism,” Aldarondo said, referencing the feminist phrase: “The personal is political.” Even as she encountered criticism that personal narratives do not belong in activist documentaries, Aldarondo remained steadfast in her belief that individual, human stories are the way to access bigger social issues. Telling stories to a mainstream audience that would have otherwise gone unheard is, in itself, a political act, she explained.

If Memories of a Penitent Heart is a walk down memory lane, then it is also a trek deep into turbulent, uncharted territory. Though the film began as a search for closure, it becomes apparent that an ultimate resolution can’t be reached. “It’s not like we know the definitive story of Miguel,” Aldarondo said. “He’s gone. It’s more about his absence.”

As much as the film is about revisiting old wounds left by shame and denial, the healing process takes place in the aftermath. Memories of a Penitent Heart fills in the gaps in memory so that what’s gone isn’t forgotten. “In a crisis like the AIDS crisis, there were so many people jockeying for power over that moment,” Aldarondo said. “It’s trying to sort of give him his moment back, in a way.”

Feature photo taken by Mackenzie Lad

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Student Life

Creating understanding through film

British film student Meera Darji explores India’s marginalized hijras in Transindia

The idea to explore India’s LGBTQ+ community for her final university project arose when Meera Darji, a British film student, began researching the country’s perception of sexuality. Through her research, she discovered hijras, people who adopt a gender role that is neither male nor female.

“They go through the whole castration process, but they do not fully transform into a woman,” Darji explained at a screening of her latest documentary, Transindia, on Feb. 10. The event was hosted by the Montreal-based non-profit organization Never Apart. “It’s almost as if they are marrying into the community, and they have these vows and values that they live upon throughout [their lives].”

Darji described hijras as being “quite spiritual” and perceiving themselves as having a sort of “female power.” In 1871, after the British colonized India, hijras were criminalized under the Criminal Tribes Act, which was repealed in 1952. Despite this change, the hijra community is still marginalized in India, according to a synopsis of the documentary. “I only [heard] negative rumours that my family had told me,” said Darji, who has relatives living in India.

According to Darji, the most common rumor about hijras is that they curse people who make eye contact with them or who do not give them money when they beg at weddings. Marginalization and prejudice makes it difficult for hijras to find jobs, Darji explained, so often their only source of income is begging. When she traveled to Idian and met the hijras, Darji discovered how inaccurate society’s perception of them is. “They were welcoming and invited me to their house to have dinner,” she said. “We became really good friends. I wasn’t expecting that.”

Darji claimed the most challenging part about making the documentary was gaining access to the hijra community. “In India, different districts have their own hijra communities,” she said. There is a tea store next to her grandfather’s temple where hijras spend a lot of time socializing. One morning, Darji received a phone call from her grandfather who then handed the phone to a hijra. This is what allowed Darji to begin making connections with the community.

Then came the next hurdle: building trust. When she arrived in India, Darji said she spent an entire week with hijras to get to know them better before she started filming. “I spent time with them without a camera,” she said. “I wanted to show them that I genuinely cared about them and that I didn’t just want to get amazing footage.”
What Darji learned during her time with hijras is that, although they are marginalized by the wider Indian society, they welcome people like them as family. “They see themselves as having mothers and sisters within that community, so they don’t feel like they are alone,” Darji said. “They feel like they have nowhere else to go except for this community, so they are all on the same journey, and they stick together.”

Darji said she wants more people to understand the hijras’ perspective and accept them as they are. “I want to show an understanding through the film so that people can accept [them],” she told The Concordian. “If you don’t have education for something, how are you going to understand it?”
This is part of Darji’s belief that communication is vital to creating social change and acceptance in our society. “Start conversations,” she asserted, adding that film is a great way of doing so because it captures people’s attention. “Now you know about the hijras—maybe tell your family and friends about it. The best way is talking about it.”

Photo by Sandra Hercegova

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Arts

The war story of Standing Rock

Article written by Maggie Hope and Olivia Deresti-Robinson

Michelle Latimer spoke about the importance of her new series with VICE at a recent screening

“It changed my life to be there. It’s very rare as a filmmaker that you actually get to revisit your heritage and what means the most to you,” said writer, producer and director Michelle Latimer at a recent screening of her films Sacred Water and Red Power. The films received a standing ovation from the crowd, which brought Latimer and several audience members to tears.

As part of their fall programming, Cinema Politica screened two films by Latimer on Oct. 2. Latimer, a graduate of Concordia’s film program, partnered with VICE Canada to make RISE, an eight-part series that showcases “Indigenous communities across the Americas […] protecting their homelands and rising up against colonization,” according to VICE’s website.

Cinema Politica screened the first two parts of the series, titled Sacred Water and Red Power, which document the events surrounding the Dakota Access Pipeline (DAPL) protests that took place at the Standing Rock reservation in North and South Dakota last year. The screening was followed by a discussion with the filmmaker, who is in Montreal to be part of Cinema Politica’s jury at the Festival du Nouveau Cinema.

Sacred Water introduces DAPL and what its installation means for the Indigenous communities that live in its path. Essentially, if built in its entirety, DAPL would destroy about 380 sacred sites that are home to a variety of Indigenous tribes in the central United States. Additionally, the pipeline would threaten the water supply of all Indigenous tribes living along the Missouri River and in the surrounding area. Red Power expands on the political dynamics that surround the pipeline and uses historical footage to show how the Indigenous population in the area have been treated throughout history.

Latimer, who is Algonquin Metis, spent nine months at the reserve getting to know the growing community there and documenting their struggle to hold onto their land. At the screening, Latimer admitted that, although she knew the Standing Rock protests would be important to record, she did not anticipate the duration and size to which they would grow. The filmmaker chose to partner with VICE Canada for her films to reach a larger audience than she would have had on her own.

While the concept of land ownership is a point of contention between Indigenous and non-Indigenous populations, the basic premise of the first two films is that the land the pipeline is set to cut through is extremely important to a large population of Indigenous people. They do not claim to “own” the land, but instead emphasize that generations of their people have lived off of it and it is not the U.S. government’s to take.

In addition to running through sacred land, the construction of DAPL began without a building permit that needed approval from the Sioux tribe, who live on the Standing Rock reserve. The Sioux people, who call themselves water protectors, denied DAPL access to their land. In August 2016, however, the pipeline began construction despite not being approved.

How dire this situation became is something Latimer emphasized after the films ended. “In my nine months there, I realized I’m willing to die for this. It gives a kind of power and personal journey to those films. I think you see the importance of what people are fighting for and why,” the filmmaker said.

Unfortunately, less than a month after the water protectors’ short-lived victory on Dec. 4 2016, President Trump’s administration made the decision to follow through with the construction of the pipeline and everything the Sioux fought against. Latimer mentioned that DAPL is fully functioning today, already with a spill within the first three months of its construction.

Although it may seem like the battle is completely lost, Latimer encouraged viewers to find the positives in the situation. She emphasized that what happened at Standing Rock can give us power and hope for the future. The DAPL protests were just the beginning of a bigger battle that we must continue to fight. Latimer noted that there are other pipeline projects that need to be stopped—such as the Kinder Morgan and Line 3—and action is already being taken to do so.

The impact of the Standing Rock protests has already taken effect. “[What’s] happening since Standing Rock is people are mobilizing, and they’re connecting, and they’re already looking at how to mobilize against these larger infrastructure projects,” Latimer explained.

In times as dark as these, Latimer added, light is what brings people together and encourages them to keep going. An influential form of light, she said, is creating art. “Due to the onset of surveillance and undercover informants at the camp, there was a level of paranoia that started that was really scary to be a part of […] and art was the thing that lifted people’s spirits.”

She explained that there were drum circles and concerts which took place almost every night at the Standing Rock reservation, as well as poster and banner-making tents which helped ignite participants’ spirits and gave them hope. Latimer found that her filmmaking allowed her to express her point of view as an Indigenous person and “channel” the stories of those around her.

Latimer and the other Indigenous protesters in the film highlighted that the installation of these pipelines is not just an Indigenous issue—it concerns all of us. This is an environmental issue, a social issue, a global issue. “We have this planet to protect, and it’s all we’ve got,” she concluded.

Sacred Water, Red Power and the rest of the RISE series can be found on VICE’s website. For upcoming Cinema Politica screenings at Concordia, visit www.cinemapolitica.org/concordia. Screenings are held in the Hall building in room H-110 every Monday at 7 p.m. Entry is by donation ($5 to $10 is suggested).

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Arts

With this Ring smashes stereotypes with a one-two punch

 Concordia alumnae shine light on female Indian boxing champions in new documentary

MC Mary Kom, who was born in Manipur, India,  financed her early boxing career by squirreling away whatever money she could until she had enough to buy her first pair of cheap boxing gloves. Despite winning match after match in the ring and slowly climbing in the rankings, Kom kept her involvement in the sport a secret from her family.

After she won the boxing state championship, her story was featured in a newspaper–her parents found out she was a boxer.

Kom’s story is one of many told in With this Ring. The documentary, directed by Concordia alumnae Anna Sarkissian and Ameesha Joshi, examines the reality of female boxers in India. Despite earning numerous titles and medals, the athletes reside in a country where old traditions and societal pressures discourage  women from participating in sports such as boxing.

The documentary follows several female boxers over a period of six years as they train to become the next world champion, competing on the global stage. In addition to showing the grueling training schedule, the film also highlights the challenges these women face outside the ring, such as the huge pressure for young Indian women to marry.

For many athletes in the film, boxing is more than just a sport. It’s a source of income, or an escape from poverty, or a means to get a job. Yet, for all the successes of India’s female boxing team, the top-ranked in the world, recognition is hard to come by.

“Our ultimate goal was to share the boxers’ stories with Indian society and hopefully the rest of the world too, so that they can be recognized for everything they’ve sacrificed and achieved. We wanted them to be known,” Sarkissian said.

The film draws its strength from the way it is structured. Rather than telling the viewer what exactly is happening, it opts to show it instead. There is no narration, and the only intrusion on behalf of the directors is intermittent text insertions to give context or explain a concept. This allows the boxers to tell their own stories—to explain their own hardships, their own accomplishments and their own pains. In addition to the athletes’ points of view, the film also includes short segments in which regular citizens are asked their opinions on women in sport. Most times, the answers are very traditional: the boxing ring is no place for a woman, as her face might get scarred, which would prevent her from finding a husband.

When Joshi and Sarkissian decided to commit to producing this film, the original plan was to go in for two months, embed themselves in the boxers’ lives, then head back home. Instead, producing the documentary has been a decade-long adventure. The filming section of their project took six years and included four trips to India.

“People may think that being a filmmaker is quite glamorous, but it often involves having a day job and spending evenings and weekends on a project you’re really passionate about,” Sarkissian said. “There are lots of highs and lows in this type of work.”

With this Ring will be screened as part of Cinema Politica’s program on April 3 at 7 p.m. Admission is by donation. The screening will take place in H-110.

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Arts

Bill Nye fights ignorance with reason in new doc

Bill Nye documentary takes a look at the scientist behind the TV persona

Bill Nye the Science Guy inspired a generation of children to pursue science and think critically about the world around them. He made topics that often appear dense and unappealing interesting to a general audience.

But who is Bill Nye? Who is this man who made topics like friction, gravity, chemistry and electricity palatable to elementary school students? Bill Nye: Science Guy, directed by David Alvarado and Jason Sussberg, takes a closer look at the man who made science fun.

Nye noticed in the 1990s that America had a bad relationship with science, and he wished to do something about it. Through his educational science show, he wanted to raise a generation of critical thinkers.

But the end of the show in 1998 left Nye in flux. He was struggling to find where he fit in the scientific community. Anti-scientific sentiment was still strong in America, with climate-change deniers disputing the established scientific consensus. Nye has made it his personal mission to counter the voices that are shaping a generation of scientifically illiterate children.

The film looks at how Nye challenges the core beliefs of science deniers by engaging in debates with them. He does this to try to bring awareness to the general community of climate-change deniers, and hopefully change their minds so they in turn can use their platforms to change the minds of others.

Nye struggled with his image as he attempted to transition from kid’s show host to reputable scientist. The documentary tackles who Nye really is, separating Bill Nye the character from Bill Nye the person.

For audiences familiar with Nye and his science show, Bill Nye: Science Guy is a documentary that allows a peek behind the curtain to see the real person behind the character, and explores where Nye ends and the Science Guy begins. It looks at how pained Nye is at the rising scientific illiteracy in America, and how he has made it his personal mission to turn it around and bring science back to the masses by eliminating one dissenting voice at a time through logic and the scientific method.

Bill Nye: Science Guy premiered at the SXSW Festival in Austin, Texas on Mar. 12.

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Arts

The Same Difference looks past the labels

New Cinema Politica documentary looks at the biases rampant within the black lesbian community

Woman. Man. Black. White. Straight. Gay. Trans. Queer. The world is full of labels and boxes that attempt to define people based on their gender, race and/or sexuality. Those who don’t conform to these socially-accepted conventions make people uncomfortable, as they challenge these clear-cut definitions.

The Same Difference, to be screened by Cinema Politica next week, looks at how this notion of boxes and conformity remains rampant, even within marginalized groups.

Director Nneka Onuorah examines how black lesbians discriminate against each other, enforcing gender roles and stratifying the community according to heteronormative assumptions. The individuals who make up this community are broken down into two broad groups: masculine-projecting studs and feminine-projecting femmes. Anything that defies these two ‘types’ of lesbians is frowned upon.

The film is structured around four social ‘rules’ that exist in the black lesbian community. First, you must either be a stud or a femme. Nothing in between is allowed. Second, no stud-on-stud relationships. Third, no bisexuals. And fourth, no pregnant studs.

These social rules revolve around the same theme: gender roles, and the perceived balance of femininity and masculinity. To be a butch lesbian is fine—so long as you don’t date another butch or get pregnant, as that no longer conforms to the characteristics of the label.

The film is centered around the experiences lived by those who do not conform to these rules. This is where The Same Difference draws its greatest strength, as it gives a voice to those discriminated against or stigmatized for either how they present themselves or for who they choose to love. By zeroing in on those directly affected by the damaging and stringent guidelines that rule the lives of black lesbians, Onuorah shows just how harmful and unnecessary they are.

In addition to allowing those affected a platform to voice their discontent, the film also includes commentary from members of the black lesbian community who support these social rules. It offers their perspective as to why they believe these individuals do or do not belong to certain groups. Thus, the issue is examined from the perspective of both those who are affected by, and those who propagate the social structure.

In addition to screening The Same Difference, Cinema Politica will also screen Pariah. Directed by Dee Rees, Pariah tells the story of Alike (Adepero Oduye), a 17-year-old girl coming to terms with her sexual identity. The film, which portrays her tense relationship with her mother, who refuses to acknowledge that her daughter is a lesbian, won the Excellence in Cinematography Award at the 2011 Sundance Film Festival. This is the first time Cinema Politica will screen a documentary and a fiction film at the same time.

The Same Difference and Pariah will be screened in H-110 on Monday, Feb. 13, starting at 7 p.m. Admission is free, but donations are encouraged.

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Arts

Blowing the lid off slut-shaming

The documentary UnSlut takes a look at the emotional and psychological effects of slut-shaming and sexual violence

Right to Campus, a student organization at McGill University that promotes an inclusive and equitable culture on campus, held a free screening of the documentary UnSlut at McGill on Jan. 23.

UnSlut follows the stories of several women and girls who have been victims of slut-shaming and sexual violence. Their traumatic experiences are explicitly discussed and layered with comments from psychologists, sexologists, activists and other experts of sexuality and social behaviour.

The entire documentary is intense and heartbreaking. But it is also imperative, as it allows for a deep understanding of the impacts of the sexual abuse, bullying and harassment that are rampant in high schools and in North American society as a whole.

The film was followed by a group discussion, led by Right to Campus members Arianne Kent and Dina Al Shawwa, and three panelists. The panel consisted of Vrinda Narain, an associate professor and the associate dean of the faculty of law at McGill, Kathryn Travers, the executive director of Women in Cities International, and Dr. Carine Hamel, a psychiatrist at McGill Mental Health Services.

Emily Lindin, the director of the film and the creator of the UnSlut Project, narrates throughout the film. She explained she was driven to bring awareness to the impacts of slut shaming when she heard of Rehtaeh Parsons’ tragic story. In 2013, Parsons committed suicide a year and a half after being gang raped and then relentlessly harassed, in person and online, by classmates. She had been subjected to extreme slut-shaming, even after switching high schools. Sadly, as the film shows, Parsons’ story is one of many in North America. Lindin said she recognized the commonness and gravity of these experiences and decided to work towards starting a nationwide conversation.

In the film, Lindin emphasized the lack of education regarding healthy sexual behaviour and consent as one of the main causes of sexual violence in North American high schools and the harassment that follows. In the discussion after the film screening, the importance of education, not only in a formal setting such as high school, but also at home and in social settings, was emphasized several times. All three panelists agreed that the topic of sexual violence needs to be addressed from an informed and resourceful position, rather than one of judgement and fear, which results in slut-shaming and harassment.

The discussion continued with several members of the audience addressing the fact that the film did not include stories of minorities such as women of colour, members of the queer community and indigenous women. A number of speakers expressed that, as is the case with all women’s rights issues, it is necessary to address the subject of sexual violence and slut-shaming with an intersectional approach.

From these comments and further explanation from the panel, it was discussed that slut-shaming and other forms of sexual violence may appear in different ways when found in different contexts. For example, slut shaming may take a different form when it occurs outside of the high school environment, and an experience of sexual violence could be drastically different in the context of the queer community, than it would for a cisgender, heterosexual person. The panelists were quick to confirm that no experience should be considered more valid or important than another, and that it is crucial to address the variety of realities within which sexual violence can occur.

If you or anyone you know needs access to support and resources concerning the topics discussed, the Sexual Assault Resource Centre (SARC) offers a variety of services to Concordia students, on and off campus. The drop-in centre is located in room 300.27, in the GM building at the Sir George Williams campus. SARC offers confidential emotional support, as well as contact with additional services that may be needed.

Counselling and psychological services are available on both campuses in the form of 10 free sessions, and can be used at any point during your studies. In addition, the Centre for Gender Advocacy offers support, either in-person at 2110 Mackay St., or through their peer support line, 514-848-2424 x 7880.

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Arts

In Homo Sapiens, life has become art on the silver screen

Presented as part of the RIDM festival, the film examines architecture and space

Rarely can a filmmaker successfully tell a story without using any actors, dialogue or text. Yet, Austrian director Nikolaus Geyrhalter has taken on that challenge in his thought-provoking documentary, Homo Sapiens. The film tells humanity’s story through a series of images showing structures we have built and objects we have manufactured.

The beautifully shot documentary can arguably be described as more of an art film, as it requires audiences to surrender their minds and contemplate the meaning behind the images on screen.

Images of a McDonald’s restaurant, coupled with ones of a food processing plant strewn with decomposed animal carcasses, tell the story of a race that chose to industrialize food production. In order to produce cheap, ‘fast food’ for the masses, large numbers of animals need to be packed together to increase production.

An image of a landfill tells the story of a race that polluted its habitats by producing large amounts of waste to serve its consumer culture. Images of a library, a hospital and computer servers show a species that took the time to learn and invent better ways to communicate, heal and technologically evolve. The Image of a prison shows a vengeful race that chose to punish those who didn’t adhere to society’s laws.

Images of a tank, missiles and a battleship demonstrate an aggressive race that is at war, both for survival and domination over the other.  Images of a satellite show a curious species that looked to the stars to understand where they come from and discern whether they are alone in the universe.

Telling the story of humanity without using a single human being is a genuinely interesting experiment in storytelling. The genius of Homo Sapiens is that the images may not be interpreted the same way by individual audience members. For instance, when presented with images of a McDonald’s restaurant, will you think of a greedy corporation, of animal cruelty or of a delicious burger? When looking at images of a prison, will you think of justice being served or will you consider an exploited workforce that manufactures items for little to no pay? The infinite interpretations presents audience members with a meditative, introspective and unique movie-going experience—one rarely provided by the film industry.

That being said, a possible flaw with this piece of artistic expression could be the medium in which it is presented. By choosing to make a feature-length documentary, it is the filmmaker who determines the length of time audience members will be presented with each image and the total length of time audiences will spend at this cinematic ‘exhibition.’ The problem is that we don’t all experience artwork in the same way. When attending a museum exhibition, for instance, some people may choose to spend two minutes contemplating a piece of artistic expression, while others may spend 20 minutes. In the case of Homo Sapiens, many audience members to leave the theatre before the film was over. While Geyrhalter’s work may have been better suited for the halls of a museum than the big screen, the film is still an experience worth having.

Homo Sapiens was screened as part of the Montreal International Documentary Festival (RIDM) on Nov. 20.

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