In a country, Haiti, which has still not recovered from the 2010 earthquake, where the president was assassinated last summer, and which is one of the poorest in the world, it takes a good dose of courage and determination to make a film there.
Coming from the documentary, returned to Haiti after a few years in France to launch her production company there, Gessica Generus is what her female characters would dream of being, women who struggle on a daily basis in a poor neighborhood of Port-au-Prince.
“To shoot the film in Creole was not negotiable.”Gessica Géneus
Jeannette, a small shopkeeper, clumsy mother, between a traumatic past and religious tricks, her daughters, Esther who is looking for a rich husband, and Freda, the promising Néhémie Bastien, a student who refuses to go into exile. A world of fighting women, even if they do not always make the right choices, in a macho country, plagued by corruption, violence, and weighed down by the weight of all beliefs.
Freda lets glimpse a hope, the energy of its performers, their humor too, illuminate the film, shot entirely in Creole, which, for Gessica Géneus, was obvious.
Julie (in 12 chapters), by Joachim Trier
Julie (in 12 chapters) is also a portrait of a current woman. The Norwegian director who seduced us in 2017 with Thelma, which bordered on the fantastic, is there in everything that is most concrete: Julie is 30 years old and is experimenting, sometimes at her expense, the extent of the realm of possibilities. The idea of stability, in her professional and sentimental life, obviously, no longer satisfies her. Not necessarily sympathetic, this character bumps and touches us, he carries universal questions, beyond the genre.
“I had decided to stop the cinema just before Joachim Trier called me.”Renate reinsve
Julie is Renate Reinsve, best actress award at Cannes, and to say that she almost gave up the cinema!
Storia di vacanze from brothers Fabio and Damiano D’Innocenzo
Finally 45 years later Ugly, dirty and mean by Ettore Scola, Italian cinema is reconnecting with a genre that suits it well: the amoral film. Storia di vacanze is almost uncomfortably cruel, but we laugh without shame at the disappointments of these families in a suburban suburb of Rome.
Pure products of a drawn down middle class, these characters with exacerbated contours obviously do not have the means to go on vacation and remain in their neighborhood plagued by the heat, as suffocating as the perverse climate that sets in. Promiscuity, family and social, pushes everyone to their lowest instincts: parents have shameful thoughts and children are no less cruel. Everything tends towards a final worthy of a Japanese film inspired by a sordid news item, enlivened by an al dente soundtrack.