New Documentary DVDs

It’s time for Nonfiction November! Did you know that Davenport Public Library has a robust nonfiction DVD selection? Here are a few critically acclaimed documentaries that are new to the Davenport Public Library shelves. (Descriptions below provided by the publisher.)

Four Daughters
The riveting exploration of rebellion, memory, and sisterhood reconstructs the story of Olfa Hamrouni and her four daughters, unpacking a complex family history through intimate interviews and artful reenactments to examine how the Tunisian woman’s two eldest were radicalized by Islamic extremists. Casting professional actresses as the missing daughters, along with acclaimed Egyptian-Tunisian actress Hend Sabri as Olfa, award-winning director Kaouther Ben Hania (The Man Who Sold His Skin) restages pivotal moments in the family’s life. These scenes are interwoven with confessions and reflections from Olfa and her younger daughters, offering the women agency to tell their own stories and capturing moments of joy, loss, violence, and heartache. Winner of four prizes including L’Oeil d’Or (Best Documentary) when it screened in competition at the Cannes Film Festival, Four Daughters is a compelling portrait of five women and a unique and ambitious work of nonfiction cinema that explores the nature of memory, the weight of inherited trauma, and the ties that bind mothers and daughters.

Over the past decade, Cameroonian filmmaker Rosine Mbakam has distinguished herself for her quietly observational documentary portraits of African women. With Mambar Pierrette, her feature narrative debut, Mbakam turns her documentarian’s eye to the eponymous Pierrette, a gifted & beloved neighborhood seamstress who works to support her young children and mother. As a rainstorm threatens to flood her workshop, one of many misfortunes, Pierrette will have to stay afloat.

 

In San Pedro Amuzgos, Mexico, ‘the town of the spinners’ where the director grew up, children are raised beneath the loom. While Zoila weaves, she listens to her son’s first existential questions. Through the warp of their conversation, we weave three threads: that of Zoila herself, that of Donato, the most famous violinist in the town, and that of Lorenzo, his heir. These are stories of songs and dances, of children and parents, and of the threads that might snap–or bind an indigenous community closer together.

 

Shortlisted for an Academy Award for Best Documentary Feature and winner of the Sundance Grand Jury Prize, Going to Mars: The Nikki Giovanni Project is a beguiling documentary portrait that follows poet and activist Nikki Giovanni as she approaches 80. The film explores Giovanni’s Afrofuturist-feminist philosophical outlook as well as her poignant relationship with her family, her political audacity, and her poetic eloquence, all knit together with a constant eye and ear for its subject’s own aesthetic verve. Looking back at a personal life and history cast in the long shadow of American racism, and forward to hopeful, possible futures, Giovanni acts as our guide and narrator, with refreshingly unorthodox filmmakers Joe Brewster and Michl̈e Stephenson refraining from traditional chronologies or talking-head conventions. Going to Mars is fueled by constant intellectual engagement and radical imagination in the search for emotional and political fulfillment in a world of disenfranchisement.

Adrian Russell Wills, a Wonnarua man, and Gillian Moody, a Wodi Wodi woman, share an undeniable bond. Both were Aboriginal children adopted by white families and, later in life, they each shared similar desires to reconnect with their bloodlines. In this moving documentary, Wills and Moody recount their emotional searches for belonging, providing an intimate journey into isolation and identity.

Kindred explores the importance of discovering your place in the world and realizing that home and love truly can be found in the people and places your heart connects to. This intimate film is a continuation of the ongoing conversations between Wills and Moody, documenting their emotional searches for belonging and how their abiding friendship has offered solace in turbulent times.

During the month of November, look for the “Nonfiction November” display at the Fairmount and Eastern branches for more nonfiction DVD recommendations.

Octavia Butler’s Kindred


I’m blown away by the sheer density and complexity of this novel for a number of reasons, but I’d have to say Butler’s technique of “layering” is so expertly done as to require multiple readings in order to unpack the story.  In other words, reading Kindred is like cutting into an onion and peeling back layer upon layer to reveal the deep meaning within. One of the more surface-level layers is simply that Butler–the first black, female author to write a science-fiction novel–has written a book about a black, female writer who is, in essence, writing, or rather, –re-writing–history and her future.

By definition, “kindred” means to be “connected” or “related to” and maybe most obviously would connote family relationships and ties. Yet, the first mentioning of the word is a departure from that obvious definition and appears early in the book on page 57 when the main protagonist, Dana, describes her white husband, Kevin: “He was like me–a kindred spirit crazy enough to keep on trying.” The statement is both double-entendre and a foreshadowing of things to come: you must be tenacious enough to pursue the life of a writer, bold enough to disrupt the status quo, and crazy enough to keep on trying.

Dana likens the job market in 1976 Los Angeles to a “slave market”, a clear juxtaposition to the literal slave market where Dana and Kevin are mysteriously transported via time-travel. Here, in the 19th century antebellum south, Dana confronts her familial past where American slavery and the promise of freedom are as inextricably linked as black & white identities.  Will Dana’s time-travels allow her to change the course of history and influence Rufus, son of a slave owner & blood-relative of her great great grandmother, whom she is called upon to save time and again? How will Rufus and Dana embody or challenge the systems of institutionalized racism they were born into? It is absolutely remarkable how Butler masterfully stacks layer upon layer to build characters as complex and enmeshed as our troubled and not-so-distant history of slavery and racism in the United States.

Thematically, Kindred is incredibly dense and complex, but I’ll focus on the theme of “performance” or “acting one’s part” that permeates the entire novel.  In several scenes, characters must “perform” their respective “roles” unless they want to suffer the consequences of falling out of line. Time-travel itself is a brilliant way to point out how racism is a construct and not the natural order.  Should we really require the passing of time in order to recognize and challenge systems of power & oppression?

When Dana brings Kevin to the plantation with her on her second journey back through time and space (she merely has to be physically holding onto him in order to transport him with her), she assumes the role of his slave as a matter of survival.  Kevin, of course reluctant to perform his assigned role as her “owner” accepts the painful challenge in order to protect his beloved wife. That Dana even needs protecting in this way brilliantly exposes and lays bare additional gender and sexuality constructs, another way Butler will craft a specific narrative in order to question it with a critical eye. But maybe one of the not-so-obvious questions is: Who, exactly, is assigning these roles, and why, and to whose benefit?  If we ourselves do not choose the role we are expected to play or act out, what are the implications when we are complicit in carrying out the performance? If refusal to play your role could get you killed (although Dana points out that “some fates are worse than death”),what is the best method for positively effecting change? Some characters in Kindred play their parts–worn down over time and physically beaten down–while others refuse to act: one standout character, Alice, asks “Am I a slave?” and ultimately attempts to break free.

Kindred is the kind of book that will stay with you, I am of sure. The complexity and depth of characters will challenge you to step outside of your comfort zone and do something that great books make you do: contemplate, sympathize, connect. I had some powerful emotional responses while reading this book which is exactly why I would recommend it to anyone who is interested in what it means to be human.