Posts Tagged 'documentary'

Inside the homes of Golden Dawn’s women

Havard_Bustnes

By Harry van Versendaal

As she waits for her son, a Golden Dawn party MP, to come out of jail, Dafni wipes a collection of rifles sitting on a weapons rack in their family home. Behind her, sunlight streams through a swastika-shaped grille on the window.

The disturbingly comic scene in Norwegian filmmaker Havard Bustnes’s “Golden Dawn Girls,” which made its Greek debut at the Thessaloniki Documentary Festival earlier this month, encapsulates a familiar question: Are people like Dafni genuinely evil or just plain naive?

The film follows three women after the legal crackdown on the far-right Golden Dawn in 2013, which led to the arrest of many of its senior members, including party leader Nikos Michaloliakos. With many of the men behind bars pending trial on charges of running a criminal organization, women had to step in and energize the campaign for the next election.

Dafni, a former submarine engineer and hospital director who describes herself as a disaffected ex-member of socialist PASOK, has a strong penchant for conspiracy theories. Jenny is the politically active dynamic wife of MP Giorgos Germenis, a former black-metal bassist and baker. But it is Bustnes’s encounters with Ourania, the enigmatic daughter of the party’s leader, which are the most intriguing. When confronted with an old photo of Michaloliakos giving the Nazi salute in front of a swastika flag, the 26-year-old psychology student with a soft spot for dogs and Disney movies responds in a way that appears to strip her of the benefit of the doubt. “I support everything about my father.”

Domestic audiences will not find much new in the documentary, a collection of interviews and archive footage of the party’s bigoted rhetoric and attacks on migrants, but they are rewarded by some distressingly candid remarks as Bustnes leaves the cameras rolling after his subjects believe shooting is over.

The director discussed the experience of shooting in an email interview with Kathimerini English Edition.
Do you think that these women are animated by pure conviction, in that they truly believe in Nazi ideology, or by personal affiliation?

I think they are convinced of the ideology. They feel like they are in a war, and they believe in all these conspiracy theories. They think that a small group of Jews rule the world and are trying to destroy the so-called Greek DNA to take control of the resources in Greece. For me this is very scary and hard to understand. These are old ideas from the Second World War; how is it possible to believe in them today?

But I also think they would like to live a more normal life outside politics. Ourania wanted to move to England to study psychology, and I don’t think she likes her role as an infamous person. I think they feel obligated to support the men, and even more so when the men were arrested.

Do they have full knowledge of the party’s darkest side, including the orchestrated attacks on migrants and Communist Party-affiliated workers?

I don’t know exactly what they know or don’t know. When I asked them about the attacks on migrants, they denied that Golden Dawn is violent. As you see in the film, Jenny says they only smashed tables and didn’t beat immigrants. This is typical of how they talk about concrete evidence that shows that Golden Dawn is a violent group. In their minds, it is always somebody else’s fault. They say it is the media which lie, and that they are innocent. Dafni even says that the videos of Golden Dawn members with guns circulating on the internet are the product of manipulation.

Did you feel these women are genuinely evil?

That’s a big question. What does it mean to be evil? From their point of view, Greece is at war, and they believe Golden Dawn is fighting for the good. There are so many conspiracy theories that they believe in, which explains how they act. So I don’t think it is about evilness but about knowledge and their corrupt worldview. If you read the wrong books and are exposed to the conspiracy theories that Golden Dawn promotes, you can end up believing in the evil politics of the neo-Nazis. And if you believe you are in a war, this could justify evil acts and violence.

How easy was it for you to gain access?

Our access was based on another film producer Christian Falch made about black metal. One of the characters in that film was Germenis, and it was his wife that helped us to gain access to Golden Dawn. She introduced us first to Dafni and later to Ourania. This was a long process that was of course difficult, but I think the fact that we are from Norway made it easier.

Did you ever feel worried about your safety and that of your crew?

We were warned that Golden Dawn have attacked journalists. At the first Golden Dawn rally we filmed, I borrowed a black-metal T-shirt from the producer to blend in. We experienced one situation at Syntagma [Square, in central Athens] where a tear gas grenade exploded some meters away from the photographer, and we had to drag him away to safety.

At some points in the film you seem to try to come across as naive in a bid to get them to lower their defenses. Did the strategy work?

I think it worked, because they did open up. When I play naive they show more of who they really are. Of course, it was a balance between how much we could confront them and how naive I could pretend to be. I decided to be more and more confrontational, but I waited until the last day before I asked Ourania what she thought about my political standpoints. Then she said that she always knew I was a leftist.

Do you see the rise of Golden Dawn in Greece as part of a bigger European pattern, or as a development that is specific to Greece and its financial crisis?

I do see this as a part of a bigger European pattern. When you have an economic crisis and high unemployment in a country, the far-right rises. Unfortunately we are seeing this in many European countries at the moment. I think all the European countries have to assume a bigger responsibility and solve the economic crisis together. We cannot say that this is a local problem. We have to help each other.

It seems to me that the strongest moments of the film are your encounters with the Golden Dawn chief’s daughter, Ourania. Do you think you ever managed to get to the core of her personality?

It is always difficult to say what is the core of a personality. I think the film makes you understand her better, but I think she is a complex character that is difficult to understand. I think it was hard for her to grow up in this party as the child of Michaloliakos, and I think Greek media have treated her badly, writing about her being fat and ugly. At the same time, of course, she is responsible for supporting a violent party.

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Outsiders looking in

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By Harry van Versendaal

It’s late winter 2016, at a makeshift cemetery for Muslim migrants on Lesvos, less than 10 nautical miles off the Turkish coast. An imam in a white hazmat suit reads a prayer as a 3-year-old girl who died of meningitis shortly after landing on the eastern Aegean island is laid to rest. A red excavator is on standby to cover her grave after the end of the short ritual.

“Logic has disappeared from this world,” says Dimitris, a local man, as he prunes the olive trees in his property right next to the burial site.

Europe’s refugee crisis has produced a rich, if uneven, crop of documentaries that promise to go beyond the voluminous albeit often superficial media coverage. “Citizen Xenos,” an independent full feature shot by promising 28-year-old Athens-based director Lucas Paleocrassas, may be short on data or sweeping revelations, but is big in directness and unprocessed emotion.

“We wanted to veer off the cliche themes that have recurred in so many other films about the issue,” Paleocrassas told Kathimerini English Edition about his movie which will screen at this year’s Thessaloniki Documentary Festival.

Whether it’s the refugee family trying to put down roots on the island, the elderly woman and her granddaughter seeking family reunification in Germany, the Syrian-born activist catering for vulnerable newcomers, the teenage victim of jihadi persecution, or even the globe-trotting Dutch mercenary working as a security manager at a migrant facility, the existential condition remains the same: All feel unwanted outsiders, “xenoi.”

“The refugee crisis is the setting, but I want to focus on the characters. I am interested in the alienation of these people, in what they are going through, in how they grapple with the challenges of relocation and social integration,” Paleocrassas said.

Apart from exposing the refugee drama, the director hopes that such intimate, first-hand testimonies have the power to challenge people’s ingrained misconceptions about the situation.

“The testimonies are just too direct. It’s just not possible to stick to your sweet little narrative,” Paleocrassas said.

An estimated 1 million people fleeing Syria, Afghanistan, Iraq and other countries wrecked by war and poverty in the Middle East and Africa have poured into Greece in recent years in hope of moving to Northern Europe. More than 50,000 migrants and refugees remain stranded on the Aegean islands after the Europeans took action to halt the flow.

While shooting on Lesvos, the main entry point to Europe for migrants, the filmmaker spent considerable time at the notorious reception and processing center at Moria.

“Moria-by-night was a dystopian spectacle,” he says of the so-called hotspot which has reportedly degenerated into a breeding ground for criminal activity including human smuggling, drug trafficking and prostitution.

Paleocrassas witnessed the limitations of a dysfunctional state apparatus but also the commitment and generosity of small humanitarian groups and volunteers seeking to fill in the gaps. With the official structures of debt-wracked Greece bursting at the seams, refugees have often relied on the kindness of strangers.

With time, he also saw compassion fatigue set in. “In the beginning, people were handing out food, clothes and medical aid. They housed people in spare bedrooms. But as the problems remain unsolved, their patience is wearing thin. These days, you can see people guarding their chicken coops with rifles,” he said.

Produced by Valia Charalampidou, the film was made with help from Wemakeit, a Swiss-based crowdfunding platform. Shot mostly over 2015 and 2016, it ends with footage of trapped refugees at the now-defunct camp near the village of Idomeni on Greece’s northern border following the shutdown of the so-called Balkan route. The sprawling tent city became a symbol of human suffering and policy failure.

“How can you imagine they will smile when they see the white man in Europe?” asks the Dutch security officer struggling to impose some order on the chaos. “The wolf will come one time, and he will bite you.”

Organizers unveil Greek movies for TDF

Back_to_the_top_2

By Harry van Versendaal

A paraplegic punk rocker wants to climb to the top of Mount Olympus, a man grapples with his father’s ailing health after returning to live with his parents, a former rebel returns home after his abduction as a child by members of the Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA).

These are snippets from three Greek films (53 feature-length and 25 shorts) which will be showcased at the 20th edition of the Thessaloniki Documentary Festival, which runs March 2-11.

Local filmmakers shine a light on politics, human rights, migration, the financial crisis and personal stories at this year’s 10-day event.

Following a work accident, director Christos Kapatos is forced to move back in with his parents. In “Antonis’ Voice,” he documents the process of readjustment which is made more complex by the condition of his father, who has suffered a series of strokes.

Shot by Stratis Chatzielenoudas, “Back to the Top” chronicles the never-give-up attitude of Leonidas, a wheelchair-bound punk band drummer in his early 30s who sets out to conquer the 2,917-meter peak of Mount Olympus with the help of a bunch of good friends.

An ex-commander in warlord Joseph Kony’s LRA returns home 16 years after rebels took him from his home in “No Place for a Rebel,” by Ariadne Asimakopoulos and Maartje Wegdam. The film follows Opono Opondo as he struggles to readapt to civil society amid skepticism from the locals.

Global perspective

Speaking to Kathimerini English Edition, festival director Orestis Andreadakis hailed the progress made by local documentarists over the past 20 years.

“They no longer focus merely on the obvious issues relating to Greece and its immediate woes. They travel more and explore themes in other parts of the world,” said Andreadakis, who took over the helm of the festival in 2016.

“There’s still a lot of work to do, but they’re on a good path,” he said.

The festival gets under way on March 2 with “Faces Places,” an Oscar-nominated French documentary co-directed by Belgium-born New French Wave pioneer Agnes Varda and enigmatic French muralist JR.

Organizers have also prepared a tribute to the seismic political and social events of 1968 and given carte blanche to American independent filmmaker Sara Driver.

Thessaloniki Doc Fest turns 20 amid fake news onslaught

"Faces Places"  JR; from Cohen Media Group

By Harry van Versendaal

Nominated for this year’s Academy Award for best documentary feature, “Faces Places” by 89-year-old French New Wave pioneer Agnes Varda and French guerrilla “photograffeur” JR will open the 20th Thessaloniki Documentary Festival (TDF), which starts on March 2.

The film (its original title is “Visages, Villages”) follows the unlikely duo as they roam the French countryside in a van equipped with a photo booth and large-format printer, chatting with people and taking their pictures before plastering epic-size portraits on multiple surfaces including houses, barns, boulders and shipping containers. Their encounters with locals – factory workers, retired miners, waitresses and so on – generate charming musings about the ups and downs of the modern world.

The tribute to Varda’s cinematic legacy is one of the treats prepared by organizers as the non-fiction event celebrates its 20th birthday.

“We pay tribute to the festival’s 20-year presence in a city which has been well educated in the documentary genre,” festival director Orestis Andreadakis told Kathimerini English Edition.

Andreadakis, who was installed in the festival’s driving seat two years ago, also commended the work of his predecessor and founder of TDF Dimitri Eipides.

“In only a short period of time, Eipides succeeded in making this one of the top-10 festivals in the world,” he said of the event which returns with a fresh crop of hard-hitting productions on social justice, culture, the environment and personal stories.

Organizers have already revealed some of this year’s highlights to be screened at the flagship Olympion and Pavlos Zannas cinemas on Aristotelous Square and the red-brick and steel complex on the docks.

Four years after his harrowing “Return to Homs,” Berlin-based filmmaker Talal Derki is back with another Sundance winner, “Of Fathers and Sons,” which chronicles the Jihadi radicalization of a family in his conflict-wracked homeland, while award-winning US journalist and filmmaker Jon Alpert follows the lives of three Cuban families over the course of more than four decades in “Cuba and the Cameraman.”

Seasoned American documentarist Joe Berlinger meets with historians and scholars as he exposes Ankara’s campaign to downplay the 1915 massacre of Armenians by Ottoman forces in “Intent to Destroy,” while in “Cyborgs Among Us” Barcelona-born Rafel Duran Torrent explores the implications of merging man and machine in a bid to expand human capabilities.

Sara Driver

Organizers have this year given carte blanche to American independent filmmaker Sara Driver, who gets to pick 11 films (10 documentaries and one fiction film). Meanwhile, the festival will screen her latest work, “Boom for Real: The Late Teenage Years of Jean-Michel Basquiat,” a profile of the poet, musician and graffiti prodigy in late-1970s New York.

Also, the festival will host a special section on the seismic events of 1968. Organizers have scrambled together a rare selection of films that cast light on lesser-documented events, including the student demonstrations in Belgrade and Japan. It will be the first Greek screenings of the films.

“These are extremely rare films, which draw on stunning archive material that sheds light on that extraordinary year. It was very hard to track them down and bring them here,” Andreadakis said.

“Our aim was to redefine 1968, beyond the events of May,” he said in reference to France’s student and worker uprisings. “This year was not just about the events of May,” he added.

Amid the proliferation of fake news, alternative facts and social-media driven echo chambers, platforms like TDF are faced with a quasi-existential question. Asked whether the spread of fake news, widely associated with Donald Trump’s successful presidential campaign, signaled a defeat for the promise of documentary to create more-active, better-informed citizens, Andreadakis sounded pragmatic, albeit committed to the cause.

“If that were the case, then art too ought to have made us better people,” Andreadakis said.

“We are fortunate that there are many serious documentaries out there to combat the trend. Films can arm people by showing them what fake news is all about and how they can better protect themselves against it,” he said.

“Things would be much grimmer without documentaries.”

For testy patrons of La Lanterna, life’s a beach

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By Harry van Versendaal

Seventy-seven-year-old Vinicio complains that his favorite blue plastic chair has been shifted from the spot where he’d left it the day before. Rene fumes when finding his sun lounger stacked and chained up with others at the far corner of the beach, before pinching it back with a bolt cutter in a superhuman effort that leaves him red-faced but gleaming with vindication.

The all-too-human daily rituals of the elderly patrons of La Lanterna, an unassuming vintage-feel pebble beach in Trieste, on Italy’s northeastern coast, are humbly yet beautifully captured in “The Last Resort” – the latest film by Thanos Anastopoulos, co-directed with filmmaker Davide Del Degan, who was born in the Italian seaport – which was awarded the Hellenic Film Academy award for best documentary on Tuesday.

“The movie is about turf wars. About where each person will put their chair, their table, or their towel. People always fight about things like seats and locks, they just give them different names,” Anastopoulos said in an interview after the movie screened at the Thessaloniki Documentary Festival earlier this month. “The film is about the little flaws of human nature – in fact, about human nature per se,” he said.

Like the beach locals fondly refer to as “El Pedocin,” or Little Mussel, Trieste itself is no stranger to turf wars.

For most of its history, the city has been a microcosm of European tensions, often changing hands between different powers. For about three centuries it was the Austro-Hungarian Empire’s only seaport and commercial hub, drawing different ethnic groups and gradually evolving into a capital of literature and music. The collapse of the Austro-Hungarian Empire and Trieste’s annexation by Italy after World War I led to its decline. The city’s character barely survived Mussolini’s “Italianization” campaign, and in 1945 Trieste was occupied by Tito’s Communist Partisans, who had already seized the Istrian Peninsula, in the northern Adriatic. Under diplomatic pressure from the Western allies, the Yugoslav troops eventually withdrew from the city. After World War II, Trieste was recognized as a free state, though it remained under military occupation until 1954, when it was returned to Italy. The city these days hosts a mixture of Italians, Serbs, Slovenians, Greeks, Jews, Austrians and Germans. Some of the history is presented in archival material in the film.

“These are the childhood years of most people on that beach. Some of them feel a certain nostalgia for the glorious past of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, although it’s something they never actually experienced,” Anastopoulos said.

The characters – themselves products of the city’s history – speak in Triestino, an Italian idiom infused with neighboring dialects, which is barely understood outside the city’s limits. “When the movie was played in Italy it featured subtitles. Subtitles are indeed necessary anywhere it may screen,” the director said.

A philosophy graduate-turned-filmmaker, 52-year-old Anastopoulos has directed three fictional films – most famously the 2008 drama “Diorthosi” (Correction), an existential tale set against the backdrop of a Greece struggling to come to terms with its migrant newcomers.

Anastopoulos’s previous film, child-kidnap thriller “I Kori” (The Daughter), was made amid the country’s financial meltdown and very much conveyed the anger and frustration. “I needed to make another movie, to restore my faith in man, the belief that not everything is lost,” said Anastopoulos, who has lived in Trieste with his Italian wife since the birth of their son in 2007.

His wife used to take their son to El Pedocin when he was still a baby. Interacting with the regulars there brought back memories of his own childhood, when his father, a winter swimmer, would drive him to the beaches of Alimos or Kalamaki on Athens’s southern coast. “When I saw this community of bathers I already felt some connection to them,” he said.

Created in 1890, the beach, just a stone’s throw from the city center, is famous for a 3-meter-high cement wall that segregates the men from the women – allegedly the only such divide in Europe (which, interestingly, appears to have a liberating effect on its patrons). “I became fascinated by that wall. It made me think about borders, divisions and identities – all mixed up with the city’s particular history,” Anastopoulos said.

No feature film had ever been made about El Pedocin; every so often, instead, it would appear in brief news reports about its peculiar wall. So Anastopoulos was really surprised to find out that while he was preparing for the film, another Italian director was making similar plans. Born in Trieste, Del Degan was brought here by his grandparents.

The Greek and the Italian met and agreed to join forces. After all, they were both animated by the same vision. “We wanted to tell a story about the human adventure. What it is like to live, to grow up, to experience loss, and to die,” Anastopoulos said.

They adopted a purely observational style, stripped of any narration or commentary. Shooting lasted one year. During those 12 months, the crew visited the beach 128 times, collecting 200 hours of film. Production lasted five months. The movie’s running time, 119 minutes, could alienate more impatient viewers.

Days pass and seasons change on El Pedocin as mammoth Turkish container ships come and go in the background. Some of the frailer patrons will not return. But when September rolls around, we see Federica sitting on the pebbles, gently stroking her pregnant belly.

Bulgarian postman with a noble message

The Good Postman

By Harry van Versendaal

Ivan, the postman of a mostly deserted Bulgarian village on the border with Turkey, is running for mayor on a rather unconventional message: If he wins the election, he will welcome Syrian refugees, who now creep silently through the rural terrain, so they can settle in the village’s many vacant, dilapidated properties and breathe new life into the settlement.

Golyam Dervent (pop. 38) – known as as the “great gate” due to its location – is the setting of Tonislav Hristov latest documentary “The Good Postman,” which is screening at the ongoing Thessaloniki Documentary Festival and resembles a microcosm of the drama that has been unfolding in Europe since the outbreak of the Syrian refugee crisis. Bulgaria has joined other nations in the Balkan region in taking a hardline response to the influx of migrants and asylum seekers into the continent. Less than two decades since removing a massive border fence designed to keep people in, authorities in the former Soviet satellite have built a new one along the border with Turkey – this time to keep people out.

Shot over the course of a regional election campaign, the camera follows Ivan, a gentle-mannered, silver-haired man who lives alone, pitting his inclusive, progressive vision against the xenophobic, we-had-it-better-under-communism alternative put forward by his rival, who resembles a washed-up Hollywood has-been. (In what is probably the film’s most funnily surreal moment, the latter delivers a confused speech from the village cafe patio overlooking a vacant field to the futuristic sounds of a vintage Casio keyboard synthesizer). The elderly villagers’ reactions are mixed.

“The Good Postman” premiered in 2016 at Amsterdam’s International Documentary Film Festival (IDFA), where it was nominated for Best Feature-Length Documentary, before screening at the 2017 Sundance Film Festival.

Beautifully crafted, with stunning wide-screen cinematography and a wonderful score by Petar Dundakov, Hristov’s documentary, his fifth, exposes the strange world of small-town politics, the estrangement of the political elites, the stinging poverty in the EU’s backyard, the harrowing misinformation surrounding the migration debate, and the nuances of the human character.

“I heard on the news that they’re bad people who kill Bulgarians,” a young girl is heard saying on a TV news bulletin playing in the background. “But maybe not everyone is bad,” she adds.

One thing bound to draw protests from purists is that the Bulgarian filmmaker, and writer Lubomir Tsvetkov, appear to have staged at least some of the scenes. “Minimal interference doesn’t mean maximum reality. It can actually be the total opposite. Sometimes you have to interfere to get as close to the truth as possible,” Tsvetkov said in a recent interview.

The election result (spoiler alert) is not what any of them would have hoped for. Although it’s hard to see how things could change in Golyam Dervent. Ten years after joining the European Union, Bulgaria remains one of the bloc’s poorest and most corrupt members. Meanwhile, public opposition to immigration is strong. In a recent survey, 73 percent of Bulgarians said they would back a total ban on citizens of Muslim-majority nations entering their country. The same poll found that 77 percent view immigration as a threat to the country, up from 47 percent in 2015.

The Swiss guards of EU border agency Frontex seen patrolling for migrants traipsing through the rural terrain are unlikely to move out anytime soon.

Thessaloniki doc fest pays tribute to iconoclast art critic John Berger

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By Harry van Versendaal

Organizers of the Thessaloniki Documentary Festival will pay tribute to English art critic and author John Berger, who died earlier this year.

Berger, whose groundbreaking 1972 BBC television series and book “Ways of Seeing” is credited with transforming the way in which a generation looked at and understood art, is the subject of two documentary films which will be showcased at the annual event taking place in the northern port city from March 3 to 12.

“The Seasons in Quincy: Four Portraits of John Berger” is a four-part cinematic portrait crafted over five years by his actress friend Tilda Swinton, together with Colin MacCabe, Christopher Roth and Bartek Dziadosz.

Also screening is Cordelia Dvorak’s “John Berger: The Art of Looking,” an intimate take on the man’s personality and work on the occasion of his 90th birthday.

Now in its 19th year, the festival will screen more than 210 documentaries – both shorts and feature-length works – by directors from all over the world.

Meanwhile, the Contemporary Art Center of Thessaloniki (Warehouse B1, Thessaloniki Port) will host an exhibition of original artwork by Berger. The show, organized by TDF and the Contemporary Art Center of Thessaloniki – State Museum of Contemporary Art, is the first of its kind since Berger’s death. Some 30 drawings and paintings, video footage and copies of his books will go on display.

A round-table discussion on Berger’s legacy will take place at the same venue on March 8, starting at 7.30 p.m. Speakers will include Berger’s editor and biographer Tom Overton, and Antonis Kotidis, professor emeritus at the Aristotle University of Thessaloniki’s Art History Department.

A committed Marxist and vehement critic of capitalism, Berger trained as a painter, but soon turned his hand to writing. He worked as an art critic for the New Statesman for 10 years.

Berger’s novel “G” bagged Britain’s prestigious Booker Prize in 1972. Reacting to reports of slave labor that had enriched the sponsor Booker McConnell, Berger famously pledged to donate half his prize money to the Black Panthers, who were, as he put it, “the black movement with the socialist and revolutionary perspective that I find myself most in agreement with in this country.”

“He showed us how to see, not as individuals, but together,” BBC arts editor Will Gompertz said on the news of Berger’s death. “He showed us how to see art not as a relay race of individual geniuses but as a kind of companionship.”

Having lived for many years in a farmhouse in the French Alps near Mont Blanc, Berger died in Paris in early January. He was 90 years old.


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