Poland tried out authoritarianism for a few years but at the end of 2023 decided to go back to supporting human rights, the EU and all that. Could Hungary do the same, or is Viktor Orbàn’s fascism entrenched? How late is too late to change course? Voters in Italy, France and even Germany, flirting with nativist populism, apparently want to find out.
As we parted, reaching for a positive note to end our Dutch-SA encounter, I began to wax lyrical about the EU. “The European project is important to us Africans,” I enthused, “not just from the perspective of migration but as an affirmation of rights-based democracy.”
I subsequently felt a bit embarrassed about my pro-EU gushing. But that only lasted until the opening of the 11th edition of the European Film Festival this week — because, once again, this annual festival really represents Europe at its best. That does not mean the participating countries are showing off; the festival is the opposite of nationalist rivalry. Instead, telling stories ranging from the intimate to the epic, these films show the interweaving of the personal and the political, and collectively they celebrate a transnational identity.
Nor is the festival a paean to all things European. Europe’s brutal colonial history, as well as the long and bloody history of war and persecution on the continent itself, hovers over the lives of the characters in various films. Indeed, a number of them are located at the present intersection of these historical forces. Others are sombre and poignant not because of geopolitics but because of family dysfunction. There are also plenty of quirky and comedic counterpoints. And of course there is love.
It is significant that the film receiving top billing this year, the Oscar-nominated Io Capitano (“Me Captain”), does not feature Europe at all — until the final moments, when a hazy Sicilian coastline comes into view. Though it is an Italian-Belgian-French co-production directed by Italy’s Matteo Garrone, Io Capitano is really about Africa: the hopes, dreams, suffering and perseverance of African migrants seeking opportunity in Europe.
The film tracks the vast journey of Seydou (played by Seydou Starr), a 16-year-old from Senegal who crosses the Sahara Desert only to be captured and tortured in Libya, before working as a builder to escape slavery and then saving enough money to embark on the dangerous passage from Tripoli to Sicily. His final Herculean labour is piloting an overcrowded boat across the Mediterranean. Io Capitano ends on an ambiguous note, as “Captain” Seydou’s shouts of triumph are drowned out by the helicopter blades of the Italian coast guard. There is no guarantee that this is the promised land.
Another film likely to be of particular interest to SA viewers is Kneecap, the “sex, drugs and hip-hop” biopic about a Belfast trio who offend the establishment in Northern Ireland not because of their expletives but because they rap in Irish (Gaelic) and they refuse to respect conservative pieties and taboos, particularly when it comes to the legacy of British colonialism and the Troubles.
The lads from Kneecap are eloquently outspoken on bigotry dividing the working class and the responsibility of Irish people to offer safe harbour to immigrants. And, Kneecap officially represents the UK.
• The European Film Festival is at The Zone in Johannesburg and The Labia in Cape Town until 20 October, with free streaming via https://www.eurofilmfest.co.za/
This column originally appeared in Business Day.
CHRIS THURMAN: Film festival celebrates transnational identity
Some films are sombre and poignant, while others are quirky and comedic
Image: Supplied
I met a Dutch couple visiting SA last week. It didn’t take long before the conversation turned to politics. My new Dutch friends wanted to know about the government of national unity (GNU).
Also, “is apartheid still a thing here?” That’s a question with a complicated answer, I replied, before venturing a query about developments in the Netherlands — where the strongest force in their coalition government is now Geert Wilders’ far-right Freedom Party.
“The less said about that, the better,” was my companions’ glum verdict. Though they were ashamed at their compatriots’ support for racist, anti-democratic politicians, they could see some light at the end of the tunnel. The resurgence of the right wing in numerous European countries represents, by this optimistic interpretation, the final kicks of a dying horse.
CHRIS THURMAN: A story of mothers and daughters and survival
Poland tried out authoritarianism for a few years but at the end of 2023 decided to go back to supporting human rights, the EU and all that. Could Hungary do the same, or is Viktor Orbàn’s fascism entrenched? How late is too late to change course? Voters in Italy, France and even Germany, flirting with nativist populism, apparently want to find out.
As we parted, reaching for a positive note to end our Dutch-SA encounter, I began to wax lyrical about the EU. “The European project is important to us Africans,” I enthused, “not just from the perspective of migration but as an affirmation of rights-based democracy.”
I subsequently felt a bit embarrassed about my pro-EU gushing. But that only lasted until the opening of the 11th edition of the European Film Festival this week — because, once again, this annual festival really represents Europe at its best. That does not mean the participating countries are showing off; the festival is the opposite of nationalist rivalry. Instead, telling stories ranging from the intimate to the epic, these films show the interweaving of the personal and the political, and collectively they celebrate a transnational identity.
Nor is the festival a paean to all things European. Europe’s brutal colonial history, as well as the long and bloody history of war and persecution on the continent itself, hovers over the lives of the characters in various films. Indeed, a number of them are located at the present intersection of these historical forces. Others are sombre and poignant not because of geopolitics but because of family dysfunction. There are also plenty of quirky and comedic counterpoints. And of course there is love.
It is significant that the film receiving top billing this year, the Oscar-nominated Io Capitano (“Me Captain”), does not feature Europe at all — until the final moments, when a hazy Sicilian coastline comes into view. Though it is an Italian-Belgian-French co-production directed by Italy’s Matteo Garrone, Io Capitano is really about Africa: the hopes, dreams, suffering and perseverance of African migrants seeking opportunity in Europe.
The film tracks the vast journey of Seydou (played by Seydou Starr), a 16-year-old from Senegal who crosses the Sahara Desert only to be captured and tortured in Libya, before working as a builder to escape slavery and then saving enough money to embark on the dangerous passage from Tripoli to Sicily. His final Herculean labour is piloting an overcrowded boat across the Mediterranean. Io Capitano ends on an ambiguous note, as “Captain” Seydou’s shouts of triumph are drowned out by the helicopter blades of the Italian coast guard. There is no guarantee that this is the promised land.
Another film likely to be of particular interest to SA viewers is Kneecap, the “sex, drugs and hip-hop” biopic about a Belfast trio who offend the establishment in Northern Ireland not because of their expletives but because they rap in Irish (Gaelic) and they refuse to respect conservative pieties and taboos, particularly when it comes to the legacy of British colonialism and the Troubles.
The lads from Kneecap are eloquently outspoken on bigotry dividing the working class and the responsibility of Irish people to offer safe harbour to immigrants. And, Kneecap officially represents the UK.
• The European Film Festival is at The Zone in Johannesburg and The Labia in Cape Town until 20 October, with free streaming via https://www.eurofilmfest.co.za/
This column originally appeared in Business Day.
You might also like....
CHRIS THURMAN: Life and times of Lucy Barton
Chris Thurman: Othello reclaims his language, gods and heritage in Foot’s reimagining
Chris Thurman: A victory of juvenile energy over dour authority