At the noon screening of “Son of Man” on Wednesday, the Egyptian theater was near capacity. A young couple sat in the back row, the mother breast-feeding their infant.
While audiences here are remarkably compliant about turning off BlackBerries and cellphones, babies are another matter. Just as director Mark Dornford- May’s retelling of the Jesus story as a modern African fable began, the little one started a post-lunch yowl. Yet there was something perfect in that baby’s attendance.
After all, this amazingly graceful feature relocates the urgency, the emotional, social power in the story of Jesus. I doubt I’m the first, and certainly won’t be the last to call it the “Compassion of the Christ.”
“Son of Man” is the second film Dornford-May has made with Dimpho di Kopane, the theater group he and Charles Hazelwood began in 2000. The first, “U-Carmen eKhayelitsha,” won the top prize at last year’s Berlin Film Festival.
Rowdy young men crowd into Jeeps. They wear bright yellow T-shirts, brandish automatic weapons and rifles and wreak havoc on villagers and townspeople. A local despot by the name of Herode can be seen in a poster on the side of cars. Bullhorns blare his orders (citizens line up here for a census). Thugs carry them out.
A woman hides in a schoolroom catching her breath. She sees how unlikely escape is. In the corner of the classroom are the bodies of teachers and children. In order to save herself she lies amid the bodies. A figure, clad in black and carrying a distinctive cloven hoof cane, wanders in for a moment. When he leaves, she gets up. A little boy angel, tufts of white feather coming out of his chest, tells her she is honored among women.
“Originality is word we throw around a lot,” began the Sundance programmer when he introduced the musical, robust, celebratory, rebellious film. It’s also a thing filmgoers crave as they go to screening after screening. For too much of the first part of Sundance it was easy to be thwarted in that search. Yet as strange as it is to choose that word in relation to a famously-traveled tale, how right he was to use it for “Son of Man.”
While distributors purchased dark comedies about family dysfunction (“Little Miss Sunshine”) or elaborate dreamscapes about reality and imagination (Warner Independent Pictures bought “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind’s” director Michel Gondry’s “The Science of Sleep”) one hopes there’s a distributor with some money in its coffers for this remarkable film.
“Son of Man” proved a personal tipping point for the festival. Here was a narrative feature that felt important. Finally.
That’s not to say other films don’t deal with vexing themes. Mia Goldman’s debut feature “Open Window,” Hilary Brougher’s “Stephanie Daley,” and Laurie Collyer’s “Sherrybaby” grapple, respectively, with rape, infanticide and drug addiction, and each has muscular yet nuanced performances.
Maggie Gyllenhaal delivers yet another commanding turn as recovering addict and ex-con Sherry in Collyer’s promising first feature. Amber Tamblyn and Tilda Swinton are richly matched as a young woman charged with killing her baby and the pregnant forensic psychologist hired by the prosecutor to determine her mental state. Robin Tunney and Joel Edgerton make a potent pairing as a young couple whose romance is upended when she’s raped in film editor-turned director Goldman’s film.
There’s no shortage of truths tackled. Yet none of these films ever quite breaks out of its tight dramatic sphere to offer larger, much required insights. Allmov ie.com has a poetically apt descriptor for these types of films: “in a minor key.”
Two of the most praised narrative features I won’t see till after deadline – “Little Miss Sunshine” and “Half Nelson.” (See my Sundance blog at http://DenverPostBloghouse.com. E-mails have been pouring in already about Denver band DeVotchKa’s soundtrack for “Little Miss Sunshine.”)
Not surprisingly, documentaries seem ready to go bigger.
Two very different war documentaries deserve to be seen – and soon. Too bad double features just don’t happen any longer. James Longley’s “Iraq in Fragments” and Patricia Foulkrod’s “The Ground Truth: After the Killing Ends,” would make a challenging but profound evening. One delivers portraits of Iraqis we haven’t seen. The other shows us visions of returning Iraq War soldiers we’ve perhaps tried to avoid.
In Frieda Lee Mock’s illuminating bio-doc “Wrestling With Angels: Playwright Tony Kushner,” the author of “Angels in America” says “I want to succeed as a popular artist.” It’s a touching admission, given that his work is often demanding in ways not tailored for quick consumption. An activist artist, he talks passionately, eloquently, of the right – and the obligations – of being a good citizen.
In a sense, Sundance, with its vast mix of films and filmmakers, strives too, to be a good citizen – of this nation but also the world. Yes, that desire comes rife with contradictions but it’s better than admirable. It’s necessary.
Film critic Lisa Kennedy can be reached at 303-820-1567 or lkennedy@denverpost.com.
