How does a film festival operate when movie theatres have been closed for the past 6 months? Pre-COVID, the Chicago International Film Festival was an eleven-day extravaganza located in the heart of downtown Chicago at the AMC River East 21. However, this year CIFF had to get creative to meet the challenges presented by the pandemic. They succeeded in this endeavor by offering safe options for viewers such as Virtual Screenings to stream from the safety of their home, as well as partnering with ChiTown Movies for a drive-in movie experience. According to CIFF Artistic Director Mimi Plauché, “This year, everything about the festival experience is new, fresh, and reimagined…”.
Pandemic or not, once again CIFF expertly curated a dynamic selection of 50 feature films and nine short film programs from around the world. The festival notably includes competitive categories highlighting Black Perspectives, Cinemas of the Americas, International Comedy, Women in Cinema, Out-Look (LGBTQIA+), After Dark, and the City & State program (showcasing films made in Chicago and Illinois.)
Here are a few noteworthy international selections from this year’s festival.
Polish drama Sweat paints a portrait of a modern creator whose need for attention comes at a dangerous cost.
Sweat is an inside look into the life of a social media influencer and fitness guru Sylwia Zajac (Magdalena Kolesnik). She is self-made, driven, and a high energy overachiever wrapped up in neon pink leggings with a polished blonde ponytail. Beloved by 600,000 followers, Sylwia’s life seems perfect from the outside. However, tension builds when her manager confronts her about a vulnerable post gone viral. It is speculated that it may have sullied her peppy image potentially costing her sponsorships. Sylwia seems to be more comfortable alone talking to her camera than she is with actual relationships with family or friends. Behind all of the unboxings, smoothie tutorials, and extravagant influencer parties is the dark underbelly of fame. To add to mounting stress, a stalker enters her life, waiting outside her building exposing himself to her. After their confrontation goes violent, Sylwia takes pity on the stalker; and one might wonder why she made this choice? Perhaps it is because she relates to putting herself on display for all to see in a desperate need for attention? The film concludes with Sylwia making an appearance on a popular morning talk show. When pressed about being too vulnerable she seems to finally have a paradigm shift. We see that she truly loves her fans and admires people who can be completely open with their feelings…no matter how they may be judged.
Director Magnus Von Horn paints a portrait of a modern creator. The social media influencer. The storytelling is so relevant and fascinating that the audience might even forget they are reading subtitles. Loneliness and insecurities run rampant in the age of image crafting on social media. Like so many of us, Sylwia craves connection and attention. But how much is too much? Does it come with the price of sacrificing true intimacy?
Becoming Mona shows how the roles and expectations we take on as children can perpetuate patterns that stifle our truest self well into adulthood.
Mona (Tanya Zabarylo) has lived her entire life as a doormat and a peacekeeper. When she was a young girl she lost her mother in a tragic car accident, and her father quickly remarried a woman named Marie. Marie is lovely at first but it soon becomes apparent that her moods are quite unstable. Along comes a new baby sister. At such a young age, Mona learns that to keep everyone happy she must stay small and sacrifice her happiness. This theme followers her into adulthood both in her professional life, as well as her love life. She surrounds herself with narcissists eventually becoming emotionally stunted. However, the death of her father shakes up everything and Mona finally manages to rise above her circumstances. She finally dares to fight for herself.
Becoming Mona (co-directed by Sabine Lubbe Bakker and Niels van Koevorden) is based on the book KOM HIER DAT IK U KUS by Griet op de Beeck. The title translates to “come here that I kiss you” which sounds endearing, however, it’s actually a cruel concept which the film takes on. “I’m not coming to you, but if you come to me you can get a kiss.” Affection and approval are elusive concepts to Mona. They are something that must be earned and not given freely. In the end, Mona must ultimately learn to love herself.
Based on the true story of the man who gave aid to Nazi officials, Charlatan balances the delicate duality of how a person can both be a generous healer and a cruel sadist.
Charlatan tells the story of the rise and fall of Czech healer Jan Mikolášek. He was a man who dedicated his life to an unconventional process of “urinary diagnosis” and healing the sick using medicinal plants. In Czechoslovakia, just before World War II, he became renowned for his healing abilities. Mikolášek went on to gain further fame and fortune during the German occupation as he was able to preserve his prestige by treating high ranking Nazi officials. This decision would haunt him and would ultimately lead to his demise.
This true story balances the delicate duality of how a person can both be a generous healer and a cruel sadist. Mikolášek’s love for his work was only matched by his affection and love for his assistant, František. As we all know, this type of relationship was highly illegal and was yet another secret that Mikolášek had the burden of bearing.
Director Agnieszka Holland tackles this epic story spanning dozens of years covering three different regimes and two World Wars with a quiet intimacy. Scenes are static with minimal dialogue driven by hidden emotions. The gorgeous cinematography by Martin Strba, coupled with the score by Antoni Komasa Lazarkiewicz, elevates the story masterfully. Charlatan has all the makings of an Academy Award-winning film: A period piece with elements of forbidden love. A World War II narrative whose hero is tormented by inner demons. What’s not to love? However–viewer be warned–the scenes of simulated animal cruelty (although brief) could make it unbearable for some to watch. Mikolášek’s sadistic tendencies could be conveyed in a more nuanced way.
