I'm Right Here encourages, and rewards, persistence and doing the right thing (Film review)

  

Hong Kong International Film Festival and other event

literature available at the Hong Kong Cultural Centre

 

I'm Still Here (Brazil, 2024)

- Walter Salles, director

- Starring: Fernanda Torres, Selton Mello, Valentina Herzage, etc. 

- Part of the HKIFF's The Masters program

 

After having viewed a dud of a movie earlier in the day, I returned to the Hong Kong Cultural Centre a few hours later to view a second Hong Kong International Film Festival offering.  With a start time of 9pm, running length of 136 minutes and heavy subject, I hoped that I'm Still Here wouldn't be too hard going.  And so it proved, as Walter Salles delivered a cinematic gem that was thoroughly involving and appealed to my heart, soul and mind.

 

A period drama based on real life events, I'm Still Here is based on the memoirs of Marcelo Rubens Paiva, the only son of Brazilian politician and engineer Rubens Paiva and housewife turned lawyer-activist Eunice Paiva.  Set largely in Rio de Janiero in the early 1970s, when Marcelo was just a boy (played by  Guilherme Silveira for the most part; and Antonio Saboia as an adult), the film opens with scenes of people swimming in the sea and playing volleyball, and generally frolicking, on the sandy beach which the Paiva family home is within walking distance of and looks out to. 

The Paivas are depicted in the early section of I'm Still Here as a happy, loving, upper (middle) class (they employ a housekeeper) family -- comprising a cheery father (Rubens Pavia is played by Selton Mello), mother (Eunice is primarily portrayed by Fernanda Torres and later in the movie by her mother, Fernanda Montenegro) and five children -- whose home teems with life and regularly plays host to friends of the adults and children alike.  But with Brazil being under a military dictatorship (after the 1964 military coup which had sent Rubens Pavia out of congressional office), trouble lurks and the less optimistic among the people, including bookstore-owning friends of the Pavias, go into exile, if they are able to do so.

 

One night, a group of armed men descend on the Pavias' home and take the family patriarch away.  Eunice and the children -- bar for the eldest daughter, Vera (played by Valentina Herszage), who had been sent abroad for a year -- are effectively put under house arrest for a time. Later, Eunice and another older daughter, are taken away for questioning. And while the younger woman is returned home after 24 hours, Eunice ends up spending several harrowing days in a cell where she can hear screams and a room where she's interrogated whose floors are stained with blood.

 

After she is returned home but her husband is not, Eunice mounts a campaign to locate him and find out what's happened to him.  For the sake of her children, the youngest two of whom were still pre-teens, she tries to maintain a general sense as well as facade of normality but the tension, stress and fear is palpable and impossible to wish away.  And yet she determinedly carries on, refusing to rest until she uncovers the truth about what happened to her husband and, also, why.

 

Throughout it all, there's a sense of authenticity to the story and sincerity in its telling.  It's worth noting that director Walter Salles was one of the children who was regularly invited into the Pavia's house in Rio de Janiero, being close friends with the younger members of the family.  And that in Fernanda Torres, I'm Still Here has a lead actress who is absolutely masterful in portraying a woman who tries to mask her feelings, yet whose face periodically -- and heart-breakingly -- betrays her emotions.

 

Based on what I've seen, I'm Still Here rightfully won the Best International Feature Film Oscar this year.  I've not seen all the other films nominated for the Best Picture Oscar and performances nominated for the Academy Award for Best Actress.  They must have been absolutely fantastic; otherwise, this movie and its lead actress can count themselves very unfortunate indeed to not also got those awards.

 

My rating for this film: 9.0

Unreachable has a central premise that doesn't give it a ghost of a chance to be a good movie! (Film review)

  

Advertising for the Hong Kong International Film Festival

at the Hong Kong Cultural Centre 

 

Unreachable (Japan, 2025)

- Nobuhiro Doi, director

- Starring: Suzu Hirose. Hana Sugisaki, Kaya Kiyehara 

- Part of the HKIFF's Fantastic Beats program

 

With a 1,734 seating capacity and the largest screen of all of the Hong Kong International Film Festival venues, there is a sense that the films selected to screen at the Hong Kong Cultural Centre's Grand Theatre are the pick of the fest bunch.  I've had friends tell me that they focus on getting tickets for those fest offerings that play there and, often, this is a good, safe strategy.  But, actually, I've seen my share of duds -- or, at the very least, cinematic efforts that did not work for me, even if they did for some others -- there; including, very memorably in 2009, Tsai Ming Liang's I Don't Want To Sleep Alone, which sent many audience members who didn't walk out to sleep!

 

Very sadly, despite my wishing it was otherwise, Unreachable is another cinematic fail.  To be fair, I didn't notice any walkouts nor anyone falling asleep during its Hong Kong Cultural Centre screening.  But pretty early on, this Japanese film which had its international premiere at the Hong Kong International Film Festival revealed itself to be built on a, frankly, quite unbelievably far fetched premise and require a major suspension of disbelief to work that I was not prepared to grant it.

 

Probably because they realised what a problem its plot holes would pose, the film's publicists had asked reviewers in its home market to not reveal a crucial plot detail that's actually pretty integral.  But since it gets divulged pretty early on in Unreachable, I reckon it's okay to do so -- and, in fact, think it really is the responsible thing to do should anyone be reading this review to decide whether or not they want to pay to go watch this movie! So... *spoiler alert*... okay, abandon hope all ye who read further:   

Misaki (played by Suzu Hirose), Yuka (portrayed by Hana Sugimoto) and Sakura (essayed by Kaya Kiyohara) are former children's choir members who have lived and grown up together ever since... they were murdered by a man who entered their practice room and attacked the members of the choir.  So, while trio behave like fairly regular young adults (dressing fashionably, watching movies on TV, going to work -- in an office in the case of one, and aquarium in another -- or attending classes at university), they are GHOSTS who cannot be seen by humans!  More specifically, the three friends are only visible to one another (since we don't see their adult selves actually interacting with others in the film) and maybe a tortoise!  

 

After this revelation, do I need to really say anything at all about the movie's story?  I wish it was otherwise but it would really be a tall order to care or have one's heartstrings successfully tugged after finding this out, right?  

 

This is such a great pity since I know that Suzu Hirose (who I first saw and became a fan of when watching Hirokazu Koreeda's sublime Our Little Sister) can enchant; and, based on what I saw of them in this movie, her Unreachable co-stars, Hana Sugisaki and Kaya Kiyehara, also are very watchable, and not just because they are easy on the eye too!  Furthermore, these three actresses exhibit lovely chemistry; so much so that I hope that they get chances to work together again, on a better movie with a script that makes far more sense and thus would speak to me!  

Truly, there's a sense of a massive own goal and missed opportunity to make a far better movie here.  Aesthetically and visually, Unreachable is actually quite lovely -- with beautiful set designs (particularly of the spacious house the three young... ghosts live in) and attractive choices of locations as well as a generally good looking cast and crew. (Even the killer is much less, well, unpleasant looking than one might expect.)  I just wish that they all featured in a less hare-brained movie that really could only work if one's being not only super generous and tolerant but, also, prepared to stop thinking... about its silly central conceit! 

My rating for this film: 4.0.

Waves made waves at the Hong Kong International Film Festival (Film review)

  

Advertising for the 49th Hong Kong International Film Festival

 

Waves (Czech Republic-Slovakia, 2024)

-  Jiří Mádl, director-scriptwriter

- Starring: Vojtěch Vodochodský, Ondřej Stupka, Tatiana Pauhofová, Stanislav Majer

- Part of the HKIFF's Global Vision program 

 

Another day; another Eastern European historical drama set in a time period which many people outside of the film's country of origin know was of major significance for its people, even if not knowing the exact details.  But whereas The New Year That Never Came (Romania, 2024) is set in the last days of a dictator's rule, Waves takes place over a longer period of time; one that saw both liberalisation and a political clamp down taking place.       

 

Jiří Mádl's film begins in 1967, when Czechoslovakia was firmly part of the Eastern Bloc and with hardliner Antonin Novotný as its president.  Repression is the order of the day but over at the International News Office of Czechoslovakian Radio, however, journalist Milan Weiner (portrayed by Stanislav Majer) is making waves by challenging the norm and seeking to broadcast the uncensored truth.

 

Before anything else, it should be made clear that Milan Wiener was a real life figure, and someone who -- this is not mentioned in the film -- was a survivor of Terezín and Auschwitz.  I think this is worth noting because it helps explain that he was a man who had already seen much horror in his life, and had experience with, as per the title of countryman Václav Havel's famous book, the power of the powerless.

 

Along with Weiner, the other journalists of the International News Office of Czechoslovakian Radio -- many of whom also were based on real people -- that he headed are presented as courageous individuals with no doubt that what they were doing was right.  And in all honesty, if Waves focused mainly on them, it would have made for a less complex film than that whose main character is a fictional Everyman who ends up working for there too pretty much by accident and, initially, actually against his will.

 

Tomáš (played by Vojtěch Vodochodský) is a technician and elder brother of Pája (essayed by Ondřej Stupka), an idealistic student who idolises Weiner and sought to work for him -- only for Tomáš to get chosen to do so instead!  Left orphaned after the untimely deaths of their parents, Tomáš worries that Pája will be removed from their home by the authorities.  And, in fact, Tomáš just comes across as someone who worries -- rather understandably, actually -- about a lot of things!

 

Tomáš' life gets more complicated after he is asked to leak information about his colleagues to the secret police.  Not doing so might affect his and his brother's living situation.  But doing so involved spying on, and even betraying, his colleagues -- whose work his brother thoroughly approves of and he does come across as actually also agreeing with, and being sympathetic to.  Adding to the moral dilemma that this involves, he gets into a romantic relationship with Věra (essayed by Tatiana Pauhofová), a worldly-wise -- she's returned from a stint in Africa -- colleague of his with a true passion, vocation even, for journalism.

 

Everything comes to a boil when the Warsaw Pact Invasion of Czechoslovakia takes place in 1968. After he learns about the tanks coming to his country and city, Tomáš has to quickly make a fateful decision as to which side he's really on.  And, frankly, even though we know how things turned out then, and over the years and decades, the developments we see unfolding over the course of the movie make for thoroughly engrossing, gripping even, viewing.  

 

To judge from the enthusiastic rounds of clapping it received at the Hong Kong International Film Festival screening I was at, Waves' salute to independent journalism absolutely resonated with the audience I was with -- for good reason!  For the record: while it's common to hear clapping at the end of the fest screening, there were not one but three distinct waves of applause for this film.  Much deserved, really, for a cinematic work that's not only well made but also has messages that are admirable and inspirational.    

 

My rating for the film: 8.5          

The Wind (1928) blew me away upon my viewing it close to a century after its original year of release! (Film review)

  

Images of the 49th Hong Kong International Film Festival's

fest ambassador (Angela Leung) and filmmaker in focus (Louis Koo) 

abound in various parts of Hong Kong, particularly fest venues 

 

The Wind (U.S.A., 1928)

- Victor Sjöström, director

- Starring: Lillian Gish, Lars Hason, Montagu Love, Dorothy Cumming, Edward Earle

- Part of the HKIFF's Restored Classics program 

The Restored Classics program is one of my favourites of the Hong Kong International Film Festival.  Last year and the year before, Ernst Lubitsch's Kohlheisel's Daughters (Germany, 1920) and Lady Windermere's Fan (U.S.A., 1925) gave me a greater appreciation of the legendary filmmaker.  And this year, The Wind (U.S.A., 1928) has introduced me to Swedish pioneer filmmaker Victor Sjöström -- and given me an even greater appreciation of actress Lilian Gish, whom, thanks to the Hong Kong International Film Festival, I also got to view in recent years on a big screen in The Night of the Hunter (U.S.A., 1955).

 

The Wind marks the final silent film appearance of an actress who managed to make a successful transition to talkies and have a career that spanned 75 years.  Lillian Gish was in her mid 30s when this 1928 was made but she nonetheless is very convincing as a young, sheltered Southern belle who moves from Virginia to a section of the Wild West that's far windier than she, or most regular folks, can imagine.

 

Impoverished but genteel, Letty (Lillian Gish's character) goes to stay on a ranch with her cousin Beverly (played by Edward Earle) and his family.  Letty considers Beverly, who she refers to as "Bev" and is clearly fond of, to be like a brother.  But Beverly's jealous wife, Cora (essayed by Dorothy Cumming) is convinced that pretty Letty's trying to steal Beverly from her -- and gets even more upset when their three children seem to enjoy Letty's company more than their mother's.

 

Ironically, Beverly looks to be the only man who doesn't have eyes for Letty -- unlike Beverly's closest neighbours, Lige Hightower (portrayed by Lars Hanson) and a man known as Sourdough (played by William Orlamond), both of whom ask for her hand in marriage; and the rascally villain of the pic, cattle buyer Wirt Roddy (played by Montagu Love), who wants to get Letty into bed despite actually already having a wife of his own.  Pressured by Cora to get out from under Beverly's roof and get a man of her own, Letty agrees to marry Lige but their marriage appears doomed after Letty refuses to have it consummated; leaving Lige, who's actually a good man, albeit rough around the edges, feeling very disappointed, embittered even.

 

And then there's the wind.  Which can feel like the closest thing to a co-star in this film for Lillian Gish.  (By the way, The Wind is not a 100% silent film like, say, Yazujiro Ozu's I Was Born, But . . (Japan, 1932) -- in that it may have no dialogue but it sure has sound effects along with a musical score.  And it also has visible wind effects that are pretty strong, impressive and dramatic!)

 

Early on in the film, Letty is informed that the wind -- which can seem like it's being referred to with capital letters (i.e., as The Wind) -- can drive women insane.  And it does threaten to do just that to Letty -- not only because it blows so much dust into the houses and seems to throw it in chunks at the windows but because it howls like crazy, and can also produce cyclones and other strong winds that can rip tiles off roofs and even bring (parts of) structures down!

 

In summary: The wind in The Wind is amazing to behold; and so is Lillian Gish.  Both come across as formidable forces of nature that command the screen; and their performances (okay, "performance" in the case of The Wind) look to have stood the test of time, and definitely play big parts in this 1928 movie still being immensely watchable and entertaining close to 100 years after its original year of release!

 

My rating for this film: 8.0

Valley of the Shadow of Death at the Hong Kong International Film Festival (Film review)

  

The principal cast, flanked by the film's co-directors and producer,

on stage at the Hong Kong Cultural Centre's Grand Theatre 

 

Close up shot of Louisa So and Anthony Wong Chau-sang

 

Valley of the Shadow of Death (Hong Kong, 2024)

- Sen Lam and Antonio Tam (who also wrote the script), co-directors

- Starring: Anthony Wong Chau-sang, Louisa So, George Au

- Part of the HKIFF's Gala Presentations program

 

When a terrible wrong has been inflicted on you or your loved ones, will you be able to forgive the individual(s) who have traumatized you, at least try to do so, or will you vow to "Never forgive, never forget"?  This question lies at the heart of Valley of the Shadow of Death, a psychological drama that revolves around a pious Christian pastor (portrayed by Anthony Wong Chau-sang), his wife (played by Louisa So) and the young man (essayed by George Au) who raped their daughter (portrayed by Sheena Chan).

 

In the opening scene of the film, Pastor Leung is seen at the deathbed of an elderly woman whose grandson is a prisoner, brought to the hospital in chains by prison guards.  After his release from prison, the young man becomes a street sleeper, who cross paths again with Pastor Leung when a charitable female staffer at the pastor's church recognises him as the grandson of a deceased member of their congregation and offers him shelter and a place to sleep at the church.

 

Unbeknownst to the staffer and the young man himself, Pastor Leung had recognised him -- who goes by Ah Lok -- as the rapist of his daughter, who subsequently committed suicide -- something that the priest and his nurse wife have by no means gotten over.  But the man of God doesn't reveal this to Ah Lok, who appears to admire the pastor, wants to learn from him, and aspires to become a fully fledged of Pastor Leung's congregation.

 

Imagine the horror, then, of Ah Lok when he discovers that Pastor Leung is the father of the angelic looking schoolmate that he appears to have genuinely been infatuated by before things went very badly wrong.  Yet he continues to seek the unsmiling priest's help to do such as interpret the Bible and seek forgiveness from God along with that of Pastor Leung and his wife, and willingly endure trials that Pastor Leung tasks him with -- at least one of which is so extreme that one wonders whether the priest is genuinely guiding and helping the supplicant, or torturing him.

 

At the same time, Ah Lok's very presence in his church and life appears to torture Pastor Leung as he finds himself wrestling with strong feelings that come from being an upset father and charitable priest.  With a face and body language that expresses so much silently, Anthony Wong Chau-sang puts in a strong performance that anchors Valley of the Shadow of Death.  And as his wife who, in contrast, is unwavering in her stance throughout, Louisa So is no less impressive in very powerfully communicating her character's anguish and bitterness.

 

With the viewers' sympathies being expected to be more with the parents of a young woman who was raped, then killed herself, than the rapist, great credit must go to George Au for getting the film's viewers to not hate -- or, at the very least, not be revulsed by -- his character.  Conversely, Sheena Chan showed her acting prowess by convincingly playing a character more complex than might be expected, including given that her time on screen is on the limited side.

 

All in all, Valley of the Shadow of Death's strongest suit is its cast.  For without their very watchable performances, my sense is that this pretty heavy and dark drama would have been in grave danger of being way over the top, and the viewers being far less likely to go with the flow and, instead, question certain plot twists and details.  

 

My rating for the film: 7.0     

The New Year That Never Came screened -- against the odds? -- at the Hong Kong International Film Festival (Film review)

  

Minutes before the Hong Kong International Film Festival screening

of a (supposedly sold out) screening of The New Year That Never Came 

 

The New Year That Never Came (Romania, 2024) 

- Bogdan Muresanu, director-scriptwriter

- Starring: Adrian Vancica, Nicoleta Hancu, Emilia Dobrin, Iulian Postelnicu, Mihai Calin, Andrei Miercure

- Part of the HKIFF's Global Vision program 

There are films that start off brightly but end up disappointingly.  There also are movies that take awhile to properly get going, but then just keep getting better and better; sometimes because they are ensemble works with a number of characters to get to know and resonate so much more after one starts caring for them, and the situations they find themselves in.  

 

Among the examples of the latter cinematic offerings is that which is my favourite film of all time.  As is The New Year That Never Came.  And it's indeed a tribute to this 2024 Romanian ensemble film that I am comparing it to Peking Opera Blues (Hong Kong, 1986), and favorably too!

 

Set in Bucharest in December 1989, the lives of six different people play out in ways that they could have scarce imagined just a few months, weeks or days before thanks to the end of Nicolae Ceausescu's rule being far closer to taking place than they thought possible.  Of course we who are aware of the history facts and/or were alive when the totalitarian state he presided over fell know this; but rather than making the dramatic proceedings boringly predictable, it actually becomes all the more interesting to see how bad things still were, and how scary they could be, pretty much up until the end for folks from various walks of life.    

 

The New Year That Never Came came out of director-scriptwriter Bogdan Muresanu's The Christmas Gift, a 2018 short film that "evoked a child’s-eye view of political terror via an inadvertent act of protest".  There's a nod in this feature length film to this by way of a child's letter to Santa Claus containing a line about "Uncle Nick" that causes his father, Gelu (portrayed by Adrian Vancica), to comically but also understandably freak out and worry that he will get into big trouble.

 

Gelu also happens to work in a TV studio where trouble brews too for TV show producer Stefan (played by Mihai Calin): professionally, by way of a leading actress in his latest production having suddenly defected and consequently needing to be replaced; and personally by way of his university student son, Laurentiu (essayed by Andrei Miercure), having plans of his own to flee the country. Gelu appears as well in the lives of Margareta (played by Emilia Dobrin), a disenchanted former Communist Party member, and her cop/secret service officer son, Ionut (portrayed Iulian Postelnicu), who appears cool at work but less so in the presence of the two main women in his life: his wife; and, especially, his mother.

 

A working class "nobody", Gelu turns out to be the one of the six characters in focus with the most consequential part to play in The New Year That Never Comes.  But Nicoleta Hancu, the actress playing an actress, it is who has the showiest role; as her Florina wears her heart on her sleeve and is, among other things, the most visibly affected by news of a massacre in another Romanian town that seeps into Bucharest by way of such as Radio Free Europe (hear that, Donald Trump?) and openly upset about having to do things she finds morally disagreeable, even reprehensible.

 

Seeing what the often fearful, upset and unhappy characters face and deal with in their fairly mundane lives makes the end scenes of this historical tragicomedy so very satisfying.  And if you have lived or are living through similar periods of repression in your home territory, they are downright inspirational as well as wonderfully cathartic. 

 

More than by the way, it's worth pointing out that The New Year That Never Came being screened at the Hong Kong International Film Festival this year can seem like a minor miracle.  This all the more so when reports have emerged in recent days that Iranian filmmaker and fest favorite Mohammad Rasoulof's The Seed of the Sacred Fig (France-Germany-Iran, 2024) appears to be the latest film to be banned in Hong Kong. 

My rating for this film: 9.0

A documentary entitled Never Too Late, and another showing his people's freedom came too late for its titular subject to enjoy! (Film reviews)

  

 People in focus (including director Rikki Choy (2nd from left),

producer Miney Ye (3rd from left) and main song singer 

Gigi Leung (on the far right) at Never Too Late's world premiere 

Never Too Late (Hong Kong, 2025)

- Rikki Choy, director

- Part of the HKIFF's Reality Bites program 

 

It used to be that one could look forward to quite a few films having their world premieres at the Hong Kong International Film Festival. This year, however, there are just six of them -- with even its Opening Films (including Chong Keat Aun's Pavane for an Infant) having had their world premieres elsewhere some months ago.  Still, I did catch at least one of them: Never Too Late; a fairly modest and very local documentary produced by Phoenix TV, whose major star power came by way of the song that plays as the end credits roll being performed by singer-actress Gigi Leung.

 

Never Too Late appears to be the feature film directorial debut of Rikki Choy -- and there are aspects of the work that one can't help but think would be handled better by someone with more experience and expertise.  At the same time though, its subject, Hong Kong's natural world and its biodiversity, is something she is familiar with (and looks to have a passion for), having been one of the directors of Phoenix TV’s Hong Kong Nature Stories documentary series.  And ditto re it being something that all of the four individuals whose stories are told in this feature length documentary care very much for in their own way.

 

Human Ip is an artist-poet who has become a farmer and lives in Lai Chi Wo.  Hidy Yu is a model with a love for the sea, who broke up with her partner because she was repulsed by his love for spearfishing.  Fun Hon-shing enjoys what he refers to as "wellness photography" in the wilds of Hong Kong (and is the director of a short film I viewed some time back on the Life (Cycle) of the Hong Kong Newt).  And then there's Anthony Choy, a property agent who likes observing, sketching and painting birds, flowers and many other natural subjects.

Commendably, Never Too Late doesn't shy away from showing such as the contradiction of Anthony Choy's working for a company whose projects could be said to intrude into, and even destroy, some natural habitats and Human Ip being in conflict with some of her neighbors in Lai Chi Wo over their perception and treatment of the feral cows that she loves but others find to be a big nuisance.  We also see that getting too close to nature can result in human pain and animal death.      

In fact, Never Too Late is actually less upbeat overall than its title might imply!  And is less, for want of a better word, propaganda-like than one might expect, given it having the support of official, including government, organizations. It additionally presents a more complex picture than may seem to be the case at first glance; with there being certain social undercurrents that aren't explicitly commented upon -- or are mentioned or alluded to only in passing -- yet are evidently there if you know where to look for them.  

 

In some ways, this mirrors one's experiences with the natural world in Hong Kong: in that, it's actually more pervasive and around you than many may realize; yet it does take a bit of digging, change of perspective and/or wandering and veering off the beaten path, in order to see of it!  Also, no, it's not perfect -- the natural world, Hong Kong itself and the film -- but, all in all, its existence still is worth appreciating. 

 

My rating for this film: 7.0

Ernest Cole: Lost and Found (U.S.A.-France, 2024)

- Raoul Peck, director-scriptwriter-producer

- LaKeith Stanfield, voice cast

 

There are two filmmakers who I know served as their countries' Minister of Cultures for a time.  They also happen to be filmmakers whose films I've been bowled over by.  I considered South Korea's Lee Chang-dong's Peppermint Candy (1999) and Oasis (2002) to be masterpieces.  I feel the same way about Haiti's Raoul Peck's Lumumba (2000) and I Am Not Your Negro (2016).  Thus it was that Raoul Peck being the director of Ernest Cole: Lost and Found was what got me determined to watch this documentary work; not my having any prior knowledge of its subject.  

The story of South African photographer Ernest Cole is one I found moving.  A pioneering black photographer who was born in 1940, he lived through Apartheid and documented it; then moved to New York City to try to escape from it, only to encounter difficulties there, lose his way and, eventually, lose his life -- sadly before Apartheid came to an end, so he never saw Nelson Mandela and his country free.

 

Ernest Cole: Lost and Found has interview footage of its titular character.  But we actually see far more of his photographs than his visage in the documentary.  Black and white photographs that show a cruelly segregated world; one where the whites were privileged and thoroughly aware of it, and the blacks oppressed in ways that look designed to break the spirit as well as hearts.

 

Ernest Cole left South Africa in 1966.  Having secreted his photographs of South Africa under Apartheid with him, he was able to publish House of Bondage: A South African Black Man Exposes in His Own Pictures and Words the Bitter Life of His Homeland Today.  Sadly, to judge by what I saw in the film, he never really was able to produce as good work outside of his home country as he did in it.  It seems that some of his work was lost; as was he.   

 

Perhaps not coincidentally, it feels like Ernest Cole: Lost and Found also lost its way somewhat midway through.  I consequently found the latter half of the film to not be as compelling as the first half.  Even the bombshell revelation late in the documentary that a collection of 60,000 negatives was found at a bank vault in Stockholm in 2017 and given to his heirs leaves more questions, and feelings of dissatisfaction than any sense of joy or relief.  

I must say though that the end dedication to people in exile everywhere emotionally impacted me quite a bit though -- as it got me thinking of exiled Hongkongers who left because they didn't feel they could be safe in their home city and/or chaffed at the injustice that exists in it, yet left their heart here even while they moved thousands of miles to try to make a new life in a different continent.

 

My rating for this film: 6.0