PARENTHOOD AT THE 57TH BFI LONDON FILM FESTIVAL
A reflection on the theme of parenthood as reflected by the films exhibited at the 57th edition of the BFI London Film Festival
The 57th edition of the BFI London Film Festival has come to an end. Because of the nature of this particular event, which sees it presenting many of the best films shown at other international film festivals, it provides a good platform to observe a lot of the themes that have recently shaped the cinematic landscape. Parenthood has certainly been one of the prevailing themes. Parents have mostly been portrayed as vulnerable and imperfect people in most of the films at the festival. In fact, it is hard to think of films that have not touched on this theme in such a humanising way for a long time.
Mothers in particular have been needy if not attention seeking. In both Kill Your Darkings by John Krokidas and The Double by Richard Ayoade, the lead characters are practically carers to their mothers. In the former, Allen Ginsberg (Daniel Radcliffe) finds himself being an emotional caretaker to his mentally ill mother. In the latter, Jesse Eisenberg finds himself the butt of his mother’s insults and harsh judgements upon his visits to the old people’s home that she inhabits, despite the fact that he is the only one she has left to look after her both emotionally and financially.
In a similar way, Cornelia (Luminita Gheorghiu) too is in need of love and care in the Golden Bear winning Romanian film Child’s Pose, directed by Calin Peter Netzer. She finds herself having to desperately fight for her insular and introvert son’s affections, and must resort to sinister antics like breaking into his home and having her friends spying on him to feel included in his life. Her son, on the other hand, is more interested in pushing her further and further away even when he could use her help after he is involved in a car accident, in which he is responsible for the murder of a child.
Incidentally, a car accident is also the reason for Esther’s (Julian Moore) sadness in Joseph Gordon-Levitt’s Don Jon. This is in fact the way she lost her own family and as a result her own privilege to motherhood. Yet, it was perhaps in the Nigerian film B for Boy by Chika Anadu that the depiction of motherhood was most alarmingly tragic. In this film, a woman must desperately give birth to a baby boy to comply with the cultural and religious demands of her husband’s family. This portrayal of psychological bullying reveals a whole new and unique exploration of the darker side of this theme, and makes for a painstaking representation of cultural female discrimination in general.
However, it must be said that it was by far fatherhood that fuelled the imaginations of the filmmakers. Fathers have been prevalently portrayed as harmful, if not downright vile. For instance, in Starred Up, director David Mackenzie locked up a tense and troublesome father son relationship in the enclosed, violent and claustrophobic setting of a prison. Here, young Eric’s (Jack O’Connell) life goes from bad to worse after he is moved to the same prison as his father (Ben Mendelsohn), and his father’s influence ends up doing him more harm than good. Another layer is added to this powerful examination when Eric finds a helpful alternative father figure in Oliver (Rupert Friend), a volunteer psychologist who runs anger management sessions in the establishment.
In a similar manner the war thriller Drones by Rick Rosenthal tells the story of Sue Lawson (Eloise Mumford), a drone pilot who feels the pressure of fitting into the military environment of her father, a highly regarded general, and is constantly afraid of letting him down.
In Hide Your Smiling Faces by Daniel Patrick Carbone (which was also presented at this year’s Galway Film Fleadh), the dead kid’s father lurks as a menacing figure upon whom the two brothers’ pivotal suspicions fall. In Terry Gilliam’s The Zero Theorem, the head figure of management played by Matt Damon in the filmmaker’s latest vision of a futuristic world has a son, regards him as disposable and treats him with cartoonish distance. In It’s All So Quiet by Nanouk Leopold, Helmer (played by the late great Dutch actor Jeroen Willems) takes care of his ailing father in a house in the Dutch countryside. It is only because of his threatening dad’s deteriorating health and conveniently newfound humbleness that he can finally start his life anew and even awaken the old homosexual feelings he repressed and fought against all his life.
We also discovered that there were imperfect to say the least father figures behind author of Mary Poppins P.L. Travers (Emma Thompson) and the legendary Walt Disney (Tom Hanks).The former’s was an alcoholic, and this is the depiction that particularly fuels Saving Mr Banks by John Lee Hancock. Yet, none are more categorically dangerous than the father (Ed Stoppard) in paranormal thriller Blackwood by Adam Wimpenny. His breakdowns put his family under serious danger and remind one of Jack Nicholson’s antics as Jack Torrance in The Shining.
Thankfully, fathers haven’t always been represented negatively. For instance, in Katelle Quillévéré’s Suzanne, a loving father struggles to bring up two daughters by himself, particularly finding it hard to protect the rebellious and stubborn titular one from her own self-destructive nature. Yet, the two most harrowing portrayals of fatherhood at this year’s London Film Festival were arguably presented in Hirokazu Kore-eda’s Like Father, Like Son and Steve Knight’s Locke.
In the first, a happy couple living an idyllic life discovers that his biological son was swapped at birth with another child. This particularly leads Ryota Nonomiya (Masaharu Fukuyama) to ponder on and re-evaluate his perception of fatherhood in general, which was shaped by his own tough upbringing and his relationship with his own father. Kore-eda admitted that this film was made up of his very own reflections and concerns about being a parent and indeed the end result feels rewardingly personal.
Ivan Locke (Tom Hardy) in Steve Knight’s film is convinced that he is making the right decision by driving to a hospital where a woman, who isn’t his wife, is having his child. However, soon enough we discover that the real reason may have more to do with his own father than anything else. The psychological intensity of the film is heightened by the minimalistic approach of the film, which never leaves the car for its near hour and a half long duration.
Having looked at motherhood and fatherhood singularly, parenthood in its plural sense has been equally delved upon. Contemporary parenthood has been of particular concern to filmmakers, and that is why we have seen parents struggling with precarious financial situations. In the winner of the First Feature section, Ilo Ilo by Anthony Chen, this situation isolates and alienates each individual member of the family. In Youth by Tom Shoval, this situation lead two brothers to think up a kidnapping scheme to help their family’s financial troubles. On the other hand, in The Kids from the Port by Alberto Morais, parents are neglectful and adults in general almost disappear, leaving children having to look after themselves in a dangerous ordinary world.
In sight of the importance and heavy presence of this theme it is hence no surprise to see the that winning film at the London film festival Ida by Pawel Pawlikowski provides one of its most meaningful representations and examinations. Ida, a young nun known as Sister Anna, meets her Aunt Wanda and together they set off on a trip to find the place where her parents were executed and buried during the Second World War. This trip not only leads Ida down a path of self-discovery, as she finds out what it means to be Polish, Jewish and her parent’s daughter, but also brings Ida and Wanda closer together in a surrogate touching mother daughter relationship.
It can be argued that parenthood has always been one a pivotal theme in cinema history. Yet, it’s interesting to see such a theme be portrayed in such a fresh and more human way, with a lenience towards its more negative side. This is perhaps a result of a concern with an always-widening generation gap, but it could equally be the outcome of a modernisation in the culture of certain parts of the world. This latter point rings certainly true in Chika Anadu’s B for Boy from Nigeria and Tom Shoval’s Youth from Israel, which coincidentally are also feature film directorial debuts.
Nevertheless, the change in approach of this theme has certainly altered something in the way stories are presented on the big screen, which is often part of a wider reflection on a character’s emotional and psychological context. What is more interesting to note is the way in which this approach contributes to establishing a bridge with its audience that is thankfully becoming less and less tolerant of two-dimensional storylines.
- Matt Micucci