Papusza - a history lesson?

Papusza

 I was really looking forward to seeing this film as I'd had good reports from colleagues and because it's about Gypsies and their history.  I ran the Travellers' Times project at The Rural Media Company for 12 years and got very close to the rich mix of Gypsy culture, politics and battles with the UK's planning system, designed to prevent Travellers from traveling in the UK.   So the prospect of an authentic recreation of a vanished nomadic way of life, with a cast made up mainly of Roma non-actors, speaking in the Romani language - a recreation of Gypsy history to put the record straight - was much anticipated by me.

Romani people have not travelled since 2nd World War in Poland, like most East European nations.  The Nazi genocide and forced settlement by post war Communist regimes put a stop to their traditional way of life, and this has not been commemorated or reflected in Poland's national heritage.  So the Austrian filmmaking husband and wife team were forced to build the wagons from scratch, to recreate every detail of the Romani way of life from black and white photographs.  In fact they have done everything to try and stay true to the history and to Romani poet, Papusza's story,  one which co-director, Joanna Kos Krauze, first learned about at school and had been wanting to film ever since.   And they have made a  strikingly beautiful and intriguing film, certainly worth seeing. 

Papusza

But ultimately, for me, it is unsatisfying.  The filmmakers'  personal integrity - their wish to honour Gypsy history, to accurately retell its myths -  is both the making and the breaking of the film.  The shimmering monochrome wide shots of Gypsy wagons and camps fires cannot make up for the lack of emotional detail and personal experience of the Gypsy characters.   Papusza's own feelings are hidden away and we never get beyond the surface of the usual Gypsy mythology.  And thus the film reinforces and perpetuates that mythology - the wandering, the music, the despair, the harsh edicts of the elders.  The film keeps us in the position of  outsiders to Gypsy life, gazing in at a mysterious and alien community.   We don't understand what it means for Gypsies themselves and we need to hear their voices, to expose the myth that Gypsies are still forbidden from communicating with us, from writing their own history, from making their own films.  The reason they don't is rather a matter of lack of access to education, resources and opportunity than of ancient cultural edict.  Meanwhile prejudice and discrimination in Europe today continue to grow.   

Watch the interview with co-director, Joanna Kos-Krauze about the development of her film Papusza

All is Lost - or is it???

 I’ve always thought that simply messing about in boats is foolish in the extreme. Even boarding a ferry is portentous with the possibility of disaster, and discomfort is guaranteed. What Robert Redford is doing 1700 miles from nowhere in the Indian Ocean I don’t know – and in fact we don’t know as All is Lost resists the easy option of a back story to provide context and heighten emotions. It’s just one man in a boat; an incredibly crumpled Redford (at 77 doing all his own stunts) fighting for his survival. So no human interaction and little dialogue (except for a short voice-over at the start there is only one bellowed expletive). It’s a brave, spare and intense film and a terrific performance by man and boat.

Interesting to compare with other ‘one man’s fight for survival’ films such as Touching the Void or 127 Hours. There is one crucial difference; both of these films are recreations of real events – they did actually happen and audiences are constantly aware of this. All is Lost has to carry the additional burden of being ‘only’ a story and therefore the perception of realism is of even more importance. Members of the boating fraternity have apparently found twelve different ‘mistakes’ in the film. I and other landlubbers are blissfully unaware of course, and some of these errors are no doubt justifiable in terms of dramatic effect. But it is an irritating aspect of film and TV that if you are reasonably knowledgeable about a subject you constantly groan at the pointless gaffes (I swear that there was a woman in high heels perched on the north face of the Eiger in North Face).

So was he a bad yachtsman, or just plain unlucky, or both? It’s true that he seems ill prepared for emergencies – there is moment when he unpacks a brand new sextant and struggles to find the right way up. But he is dogged, determined and systematic and always finds a way to keep afloat and alive. This I suppose is the core of the film; keep on trying, overcome every obstacle. The process, the journey, the struggle is more important than the goal (safety / life). I can appreciate this in terms of my own brand of foolishness – walking alone through remote mountains. Getting to the summit is less important than what happens, plotting and plodding, on the way.


The ending is satisfyingly enigmatic – is all lost or did he survive? I wasn’t sure, so I asked two senior members of the Borderlines’ staff, people of immense filmy knowledge and wisdom. ‘Did he survive?’ ‘Of course!’ said one. ‘Durrr - of course not!’ said the other. At an early screening the director J C Chandor asked the audience the same question. It was 50 / 50, with no help from Chandor or Redford. Take your pick. Optimist – he made it. Pessimist – he died. For fans of the afterlife, the white light of the rescue boat could be the start of the final journey. Either way, you won’t find me on a boat any time soon.

Kiss the Water

Why do salmon snap at flies? This is, arguably, the abiding mystery of salmon fishing, because returning salmon starve themselves on their journey to their breeding grounds, living only on the fat of their sea years.

Eric Steel’s mesmerizing and quietly enthralling documentary explores this conundrum by focusing the life of the bespoke, and now legendary, fly-tier Megan Boyd. Boyd lived and worked all her life in Brora, in a remote cottage without electricity or running water, surrounded by feathers from swans and parrots, bits of fur, gold and silver and turquoise thread, where, by the light of a hurricane lamp, she tied thousands upon thousands of exquisite salmon flies, accompanied only by her dog. Over the years a steady stream of “toffs,” including the Prince of Wales, made their way up the A9, the road that winds from Edinburgh to John O’Groats, to beat a path to Megan’s door.
Using a combination of interviews, animation and translucent images of the Highlands, Eric Steel attempts to capture the essence of this most elusive lady. He has very little to go on, and there is a “sub plot” to the documentary that seeks to equate Princess Diana with a salmon fly, not entirely successfully, but it is the only glitch in this otherwise fascinating and wholly original documentary.

Kiss the Water is being shown in cinemas all the way from Caernarfon to Aberfeldy. It screens at Ludlow Assembly Rooms on Thursday 6 March at 2pm and 7.30pm and at The Courtyard Hereford on Friday 14 March at 6.15pm when producer Kate Swan will be present to introduce the film and answer questions.

Be sure to catch it in a cinema near you.

KATHARINE NORBURY

THE FISH LADDER BY KATHARINE NORBURY WILL BE PUBLISHED BY BLOOMSBURY NEXT YEAR