Remembering Robin Williams

By Matt Giles

It goes without saying that Robin Williams made all of us laugh. For some it was his starring role in “Mork & Mindy,” for others it was as the Genie in “Aladdin.” And then there was everything in between, from his dramatic roles in films like “Dead Poets Society,” and “Awakenings,” to more disturbing parts in films like “Insomnia” and “One Hour Photo.” What was always clear was his immeasurable talent and charm, as well as his kindness. For those of you who haven’t seen all of the media coverage about Williams – especially as it relates to Detroit Public Television – we’ve added a whole page dedicated to him called Remembering Robin Williams.

There, you can see his appearances on various PBS specials and you can also find links to mental heath resources. Williams was also remembered on Monday’s episode of Charlie Rose. PBS NewsHour also had a segment that featured my favorite film critic, A.O. Scott of The New York Times, and Budd Friedman, founder of Improv Comedy Club. For the young ones, WNYC tweeted a link to 30 years of Robin Williams appearances on Sesame Street, which is pretty cool: bit.ly/1oHLtBF

While we mourn the loss of one of our most beloved actors, it is very clear in all of the clips above that we should celebrate his life and the gift of laughter he brought to so many. For me, “Hook” will always be my favorite because I saw it at such a young age and loved the performance Williams gave as an older Peter Pan. The best scene comes when Peter finally remembers his happy thought and is able to fly, fight, and crow once more. Bangarang, Robin. Bangarang.

Searching For Sugar Man ★★★★

A Detroit Musician Brought Back To Life By Two Loving Fans

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

It's safe to say that movies showcasing the talent that the city of Detroit has to offer are few and far between. It's a city I'm associated with as a result of my Michigan location and is often the butt of every joke. Every now and then, however, Detroit is recognized as a place where many true originals came from, a point exemplified in the terrific documentary, Searching For Sugar Man.

A Detroit musician named Sixto Rodriguez recorded two albums (Cold Fact in 1970 and Coming From Reality in 1971) that did absolutely no business in the U.S. His voice was reminiscent of Bob Dylan, his music had a very Led Zeppelin feel to it, and his lyrics were truly original. What's astounding is that while these albums failed here, Rodriguez was more famous than Elvis in South Africa due his anti-establishment lyrics during the Apartheid - and he never knew about it.

After the failure of his two albums in the U.S., no one knew what became of him, which eventually resulted in two of his biggest fans from Cape Town, Stephen Segerman and Craig Bartholomew Strydom, trying to find out the rest of Rodriguez's story. Searching For Sugar Man unfolds almost like a detective story, drawing you in with every new detail as the film progresses, and is absolutely brilliant as a result. The efforts of these two men, combined with other music journalists and old record producers, is truly fascinating to watch; a lesson in the merits of great research combined with outstanding storytelling technique.

This documentary, like Rodriguez himself, is a hidden gem among the many great films 2012 has offered so far. It's an amazing look inside the world of the 1970's music industry, as we see the producers who championed Rodriguez as an original artist, and some who didn't really care what became of him because of the popularity of other bands at that time. It is also a commentary about the realities of living in Detroit by showing the detail of urban decay throughout areas of the city and, in particular, the stories family members tell about Rodriguez's life in Motown.

More than anything this is a documentary about hope, redemption and rebirth as it pertains to one man's omission from music history and the recognition he eventually received as the result of two fans who were inspired by the lyrics he wrote. At the time, Rodriguez was a symbol of hope for the African nation divided by prejudice and censorship. Rodriguez himself was cast aside for similar reasons in a way, somehow viewed as less than other talents of the time, even though, as you'll no doubt learn seeing this film, he's more original than all of them.

Rodriguez's story is very much the story of Detroit itself. A city forgotten and looked down upon by others, yet capable of producing original talent. I'm glad Rodriguez finally got the fame he always deserved but never expected, nor wanted. One day, Detroit may be as lucky as Rodriguez.

Side By Side ★★★★

Polarizing, Captivating; A Reminder Of Why We Love Movies

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

Unlike 2011, a year in which many documentaries failed to make nearly every critic's top ten list, 2012 is shaping up to be the year of the documentary. This theory of mine is illustrated beautifully in the new film Side By Side (directed by Christopher Kenneally), a documentary investigating the increasing popularity of digital filmmaking and its impact on film itself. The interviewees include directors, cinematographers, editors and a variety of other post-production talents, each with their own opinion of why shooting on film or digital is a better method for making movies.

The man interviewing these legends of cinema is the last person I would expect in a film like this, Keanu Reeves. While this is a documentary, I have to say that this film is Reeves' best work. He displays a wealth of knowledge on filmmaking processes and is terrific as an interviewer. He doesn't just ask question after question, but instead has a conversation with these people, allowing them to talk and challenging them, when necessary, to provide examples proving their argument.

On the pro-film side of moviemaking is Christopher Nolan, the titan of brilliantly staged and choreographed action all within the camera, and the perfect person to make the case for shooting with film as opposed to digital. He argues that digital filmmaking is not true filmmaking, and uses the example of the chewy cookie - made to look, feel and taste like it was fresh out of the oven - being a fake, and lesser version of the original. In other words, the use of digital photography is hindering directors and cinematographers from knowing their craft, limiting their understanding of how movies are actually made.

On the other side of the argument are David Fincher and James Cameron, two men who, for very separate and equally valid reasons, believe digital photography is the only way to make movies. Fincher is a man known for shooting close to 100 takes for a given scene to ensure a perfect mise-en-scène, and as a result, enjoys the ability to immediately view scenes that were just shot to do so. With film, he points out, directors have to wait until the following day for it to be developed and then watch the dailies. He considers this method a backward way of filmmaking, as a director cannot see if mistakes were made until the scene or sequence has already wrapped. Conversely, James Cameron states that film died for him years ago because could not shoot in 3D and that digital effects were and still are the future of modern filmmaking. Examples from the technology he used in The Abyss and Terminator 2: Judgment Day are shown to illustrate how shooting in digital has made Mr. Cameron's dream of creating his own worlds come to life.

Every time someone talks about being in favor of film, several disadvantages to it are mentioned. Similarly, the disadvantages to digital are brought up when someone shows their preference for it. One could argue that Side By Side seems to argue in favor of digital but I found it to be unbiased one way or the other. It's made clear that each method has its benefits and its problems, but it also makes a clear case that at this time, one cannot seem to exist without the other. Even if a movie is shot digitally, film preservation (as opposed to hard drives) is still the preferred and more reliable method for storing movies. What is made abundantly clear is that film has reached the best of its potential and that digital is in its beginning, pointing to the necessity for filmmakers like Mr. Nolan to embrace the new and remember the old fondly.

I have to admit that prior to seeing Side By Side, I was pro-film entirely. While directors like Mr. Fincher continue to impress me with digital cinematography, I still found something nostalgic and original in using film. Now, however, it's become clear that there's not necessarily one method that should be used in all movies, but instead, depending on the film and what a particular director is going for, one method may work better to tell that story than the other.

This is a debate that proves to be equally (if not more) polarizing than which political party one identifies with. Side By Side isn't out to tell us that we have to believe in one method or the other, it simply shows us both arguments (as the title implies) and allows us to choose for ourselves. It is an important film for cinephiles like myself, as well as anyone in the arts who wants to learn more about the craft of composing images. As The New York Times film critic, A.O. Scott said in his review, "It is worth a year of film school and at least 1,000 hours of DVD bonus commentary."

Side By Side is very personal for me. I grew up watching movies that my parents gave me, learning what I liked and what I didn't. I went to college to study film and to learn the skill with which all of my favorite movies were made. Hearing how these directors and cinematographers - many of whom have worked on movies that I love - talk about their craft so passionately reminds me why I love going to the movies in the first place. It emphasizes the importance of movies as cultural artifacts, and proves that no matter how many movies someone has seen or made, there's always something new to learn.

The Truth Is Out There ★★★½

Picking Up Where Mulder And The Lone Gunmen Left Off

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

When people ask me what my favorite show on television was my response is The X-Files, without even thinking about it. It’s a show that continues to have a special place in my heart because it represented nerdy guys like myself and did so respectfully. That representation was perhaps best illustrated by Mulder’s (David Duchovny) three wisecracking sidekicks known as The Lone Gunmen. These characters we so popular that there was a even a spin-off series entitled, The Lone Gunmen, that put these guys front and center, focusing each week on their misadventures. That series was cancelled and after The X-Files ended its nine-year run it seemed as though that would be the last we would see these three heroes and the world of conspiracy they and the show opened up. At least until now.

Dean Haglund, who played Langly - the computer hacking, Ramones loving, longhaired rebel - has returned - or perhaps never left - in a documentary released last year by Phil Leirness aptly called, The Truth Is Out There. Mr. Haglund has very much remained in the world of conspiracy, attending various conventions all over the world in search of a universal truth. The documentary explores this journey and asks if that truth is attainable.

The film begins by introducing us to the veteran television actor, showcasing his skills as an improv comic and following him around several conventions as he talks with people about the nature of conspiracy. At first each conspiracy seems different from the other, but about 10 minutes in you start seeing how every one of them connects to another. Every person Mr. Haglund interviews has something both fascinating and, at times, quite disturbing to say.

An example of this comes from the interviewee who I thought was most engaging, G. Edward Griffin. In talking about cancer and how it’s currently treated, he argues that the focus should not be on killing tumors but instead asking the question of why the tumor grew where it did in the first place. Furthermore, he mentions that there are certain areas of the world where cancer is virtually unheard of because amygdalin - a compound that when used properly attacks cancer cells - is found in much of the food that the people in these areas consume. It is eye-opening, jaw-dropping material that illustrates this film's importance. Other theories that may surprise viewers include a moment where Mr. Haglund states that the Kennedy assassination was actually a suicide and a moment in Berlin when Mr. Leirness, who appears briefly, talks about the theory that certain filmmakers and showrunners, including Chris Carter, are mouthpieces for The Illuminati.

For me, the most disturbing area explored in the documentary was in relation to our food supply, which is explained by Dr. Stanley Monteith. He states that roughly 85% of our corn and 90% of our soy is genetically modified for the purposes of sterilizing the population. You may feel the urge to roll your eyes at a statement like that, but if you reserve judgement and listen to what he has to say, you might start paying closer attention to what you eat.

What the film does best is give voice to these people who are usually silenced or ignored. It dives head first into territory that many might find uncomfortable, with Mr. Haglund serving as our tour guide. One of the complaints I’ve heard about the film is that it’s two long (it clocks in at just under two-and-a-half hours) and that some of the people interviewed could have been cut. This is truly a subjective criticism (but then again, aren’t they all?) in that this is one of those rare movies that give no two people the same experience. The interviewees I enjoyed most could very well be the people that someone else feels could have been cut and vice versa. It’s that attribute that makes this film such an enjoyable experience despite some of the difficult areas it explores.

In addition, it's a film that welcomes repeated viewing; you get something new out of it each time. There is a lot of information thrown at you and at times it's hard to keep everything straight, as this is such unfamiliar subject matter for most people. (I have about three pages worth of notes from my most recent viewing.) It's an example of a filmmaker showing respect to his subject matter, giving them the platform upon which to stand.

It's as much a film about Mr. Haglund as it is the "friends of truth" as they're known, which at first might confuse the people who seek this film out. However, at one critical point in the film, Mr. Haglund states that as a young man he was often criticized for not sticking with one thing. In that scene everything about the film becomes clear: We've jumped from conspiracy to conspiracy, country to country, and learned who Mr. Haglund is along the way. What better way to exemplify this man than to show us what his life is like through the film's editing? Mr. Leirness, who in addition to directing edited the film, deserves an award for editing all of this material and doing so in such a way as to serve who Mr. Haglund is.

What The Lone Gunmen series did was show that unlikely heroes exist all around us and in many forms. These were characters unafraid to find the truth, going so far as to sacrifice their lives to save many others at the end of The X-Files' run. My favorite line of the show came from Byers (Bruce Harwood, who reunites with Mr. Haglund and Tom Braidwood in the film) who tells his colleagues, "We never gave up and we never will. In the end if that's the best they can say about us, it'll do." It's comforting to know that Mr. Haglund is still fighting the good fight and that the themes both shows explored all those years ago on television remain an integral part of this man's life.

Katy Perry: Part of Me ★★★

Do Fame and Fairytale Go Hand in Hand?

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

Many of us don't understand what it's like to be a musician. Whether they're famous or not, the life of a musician is anything but easy. They're on the road constantly, working late nights, rehearsing all day and spend far less time than they want to with the ones they love. This concept is part of what makes Katy Perry: Part of Me, the new documentary about the singer/songwriter's 2011 world tour, so intriguing.

Perry's album, Teenage Dream, propelled her to international fame and made Perry the first artist since Michael Jackson to have five No. 1 singles on an album. The film begins in January 2011 when her year-long international tour is about to begin. We see her excitement, her enthusiasm and nervousness about embarking on such an adventure, and watching her, we're anxious to see what events will unfold by the tour's end.

One major event that made me completely invested in Perry's strength as a performer was her relationship with actor/comedian Russell Brand. He appears briefly in the film, but it's well known that these two separated in December of 2011 and divorced shortly thereafter. While this may seem more like gossip, it's not. Instead it adds suspense and dread to the story, which is something I was not expecting going into the film.

Over the course of the first few months we see the effort that Perry is putting into her relationship. Despite being in Europe, she flies to Los Angeles or New York (or wherever Brand happens to be) in order to spend time with him, leaving her exhausted and frustrated. She's committed to her marriage, but in one scene argues with her manager that there are no days in the coming weeks for her to fit in time with her husband. Her manager, clearly annoyed, tells us that Perry is killing herself by making all these trips and thinks that Brand should fly to Europe some of the time, but he won't and Perry knows that.

I mention her relationship to Brand because it emphasizes the juxtaposition the film is ultimately about: this singer, who's style, songs and attire all evoke a fairytale belief system, has anything but a fairytale life. This is a film that shows us the personal tole that superstardom can take on an individual and that, as much as someone like Perry may want the ideal life, sometime's it's just not possible.

In one truly heartbreaking scene, something has happened (we're never told the specifics and it's tasteful that we're not) between Perry and Brand. She's devastated, does not want to move and cannot stop crying. She forces herself into getting ready and not canceling the show she's about to do in Brazil. She walks beneath the stage, steps on the platform that will bring her up to the stage (echoing the opening scene of the film) and breaks down crying again. It seems as though they'll have to pull the plug and then, being the dedicated artist she appears to be, she composes herself, smiles and does the show.

Yes, this is a film about Katy Perry - by Katy Perry - so she'll obviously be portrayed in the best way possible. It's subjective and manipulative, but then again, so are all stories. Perry has a unique presence that captivates us, making us feel her pain and emotionally invest in her journey. She's a character in a film and a real person at the same time. She's brave for allowing her fans and all other interested parties see what a year of her life looks like.

The film's weaknesses are few and far between. I would have preferred more objectivity, maybe showed interviews with people who have had bad experiences with Perry, if there are any, and there could have been less fan montages showing the impact of her songs. I know what they're trying to do, but it makes the film feel too biased in Perry's favor.

These weaknesses don't take away from the enjoyment Katy Perry: Part of Me provides. This is a documentary that provides insight into the price of fame, and Perry is just the right character to keep us engaged throughout.

Jiro Dreams Of Sushi ★★★★

This May Just Be The Best Film of 2012

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

Jiro Ono is an 85-year-old world-renowned sushi chef who, despite his age and experience with preparing sushi, is still looking to perfect his craft. Reservations for his restaurant, Sukiyabashi Jiro, have to be made a month, sometimes a year in advance. As we’re told in the film by a Japanese food critic, the meal might be very quick but well worth the wait to be able to sit in Jiro’s restaurant. This documentary by David Gelb chronicles the day-in and day-out life of Jiro, illustrating what kind of man he is and how he got to be the sushi chef he’s become. The answer is simple really, as Jiro tells us: “You have to love what you do.”

That principle is a large part of why this film is so good. For anyone out there who has ever had a dream about doing what they love, it shows us what can become of someone truly devoted to their love in life. Those of us who say that we do what we love might walk out of the film feeling like they’ve forgotten that passion that made them want to enter into their respective careers in the first place. At one point Jiro asks why anyone who “does what they love” have any complaints about the job? If they love it, there should be no complaints, plain and simple.

The film really does a great job of showing his passion for cooking sushi. There are countless slow motion shots of different stages of preparation; The sounds of the water hitting the rice that they use for the sushi and gorgeous cinematography by Gelb that puts us right in the kitchen to make us feel like we’re apart of something special. Every image is so crisp and beautiful that any time there are any shots of food, you wish you could partake in the experience.

The other story at the film’s center is the relationship that Jiro has with his two sons, Yamamoto and Takashi. Takashi (his younger son) has opened his own restaurant, which is basically a more relaxed mirror image of Jiro’s. (We’re shown in an early scene that Jiro is left-handed and therefore the design of his restaurant is meant for a left-handed chef. Takashi is right handed and so the opposite is true.) We’re told that Jiro often intimidates people, as he usually stares intently at each of his customers, studying their reactions to his food. Takashi on the other hand is more conversational and supposedly cooks sushi that is almost, if not equally as good as his father’s.

Yamamoto (the older son who’s now 51) is the heir to Jiro’s restaurant, but is still struggling to live up to the man his father is. A former employee of Jiro’s explains that in order for Yamamoto to be successful he has to make sushi that is far better than Jiro’s, not equal to. At 85, Jiro shows no signs of quitting despite a heart attack ten years earlier and the long hours he still puts in to his business, which leaves Yamamoto with some time to surpass his father.

For me, the aspects of this family and this restaurant are fascinating. The son’s quest for the father’s approval is something that I will always connect with, and the fact that Yamamoto still has not surpassed his father at his age is heartbreaking at times. In addition, the calculation and the process that goes into perfecting a product like Jiro has is so inspiring. Jiro doesn’t beat himself up for “not being perfect yet”, instead he works; each day seeing how he can improve upon the last. Some of his techniques took years to achieve, such as how long to massage an octopus before boiling it. We’re told he originally started at 20-30 minutes but now does it for closer to 40, which makes its texture much better than most are probably used to.

This is a film that shows the results of someone who is devoted to his craft and loving every minute of it. My eyes were glued to the screen for every minute that an image was projected. I kept thinking to myself that whatever I do in life, I’m nothing if I don’t relish every minute of it. I walked out of the theatre feeling inspired - something that I don’t feel often enough in movies anymore. It reminded me of why I love seeing films from all around the world, not just American films. I should mention that I’m a vegetarian and have, for my entire life, despised seafood. This is the first and only film that really made me wish I could try some sushi; that I was sitting right in front of Jiro, eating the meal he’s placed in front of me, while he stares patiently at me awaiting my response.

Jiro Dreams of Sushi is currently playing at The Maple Theatre in Bloomfield Hills and will open at The Michigan Theater in Ann Arbor this Sunday, April 22.

Crazy Horse ★★★★

A Brilliant Behind The Scenes Look At One Of France’s Most Erotic Cabarets

Written by Matt Giles

Edited by Erin Accomando

Frederick Wiseman is a documentary filmmaker whose career has spanned more than forty years. Knowing that makes me feel even worse about the fact that this is the first film of his that I have ever seen. Crazy Horse is the name of the Parisian cabaret, known for its eroticism and skillfully crafted performances. In 2009, Wiseman brought his camera in to film the making of the new show the cabaret was putting on entitled Désirs. What we get is the fly-on-the-wall style of documentary filmmaking that Wiseman is known for, wherein we witness the stress, hard work and sacrifice that these people put into creating a show.

The film begins with a variety of musical numbers to introduce us to the world we’ll be spending the next two and a half hours living in. It’s dark; it’s atmospheric; it’s artistic and yes, quite erotic. Later, we see the director Ali Mahdavi talking about how they need to close Crazy Horse if they really want to be able to pull off Désirs. We see everyone from the dancers themselves, to the choreographers, makeup artists, costume designers and stage managers. What’s fascinating is that through all of the stress and apparent turmoil that exists behind putting on a show like this, no one ever shouts at one another. The overall feeling that I got when watching this film is that each show is such success largely because of the respect that everyone seemingly has for one another. They do fight, again, never yelling, they disagree on each other’s vision of the show but somehow they all work well together.

As mentioned, Wiseman’s unique style of documentary filmmaking is very removed, as opposed to most documentaries where the camera essentially forces its way in. Here, it’s literally as we’re the invisible man, unnoticed day in and day out. There are never any interviews conducted except for the ones conducted by other people promoting Désirs, which Wiseman gets on film because he happened to be there at that time. It’s a fascinating take on filmmaking because so much is left up to us as an audience to interpret. We observe everyone, but we never get to hear, for example, how any of the dancers feel personally about what they do. We hear whispers from the director that certain numbers like Venus are being cut because the women are not comfortable touching one another, but again, these are only hints.

The one scene that really lets us see the comical side of these women is when they’re sitting in the back watching bloopers of Russian ballet dancers, laughing hysterically at each of the mistakes they make. This is paralleled with another scene where the director talks about how the women are still making at least one mistake during each musical number, which is unacceptable. When watching this film one cannot help but appreciate the kind of work that goes into a show like this, or for that matter what it takes to do any show that’s worth talking about.

I should also mention that this film is absolutely gorgeous to look at. This cinematography is spectacular, largely due to the artistic direction and lighting of Désirs itself. It’s amazing that a show like this even exists and it’s refreshing to see how another culture views the subject of eroticism. This is a film and a world unlike any other you’ve ever seen. It’s well worth your time and money to seek this film out and invite yourself into the world of The Crazy Horse Cabaret.  

This Is Not A Film ★★★½

Heartbreaking And Simultaneously Uplifting

Written by Matt Giles

Edited by Erin Accomando

I’m the first to admit (and shamefully so) that my experience with Iranian cinema is next to none. Earlier this year I saw the brilliant, yet puzzling Certified Copy by Iranian filmmaker Abbas Kiarostami. And now This Is Not A Film, about Iranian filmmaker Jafar Panahi. Panahi is one of the most prolific filmmakers to come out of Iran and has made an impact around the world as one of the most important filmmakers of our time. In 2009 he was arrested for opposing Iran’s regime and sentenced to six years in prison along with a twenty-year ban from filmmaking. In 2010, while still under house arrest, This Is Not A Film was made showing one day in the life of Panahi’s current predicament. This film was so secretive, so risky that it had to be smuggled out of the country on a flash drive hidden inside of a cake for a last minute submission to last year’s Cannes Film Festival.

Basically what anyone like myself who has very limited knowledge of Iranian cinema should know before seeing this film is to know is that it is a very painstaking process to get a film made in Iran. While we think that the ratings system in the U.S. is a headache, there is a strict approval process from script to film in Iran, which is one of the many reasons that Panahi has the reputation he does. He’s made films that have criticized the treatment of women in Iran as well as taking what some have called an Iranian form of neorealism oftentimes using non-professional actors in the main roles of his films. Panahi is the true definition of an artist. He’s someone who longs for the opportunity to express himself and having his voice silenced as it has been is devastating to not only him but us as an audience.

The film starts off slow as we see Panahi making himself breakfast and making a phone call his lawyer to discuss whether or not she thinks his sentence will be reduced and if the ban will be lifted. She’s hopeful, but as we now know, neither the sentence nor the ban was reduced or lifted, sadly. Later, he makes a call to a friend of his who we later learn is another Iranian filmmaker, Mojtaba Mirtahmasb. Panahi has invited him over to shoot a reenactment of Panahi’s latest film that was never made about a woman who is locked up by her father to prevent her from enrolling at an art school she’s been accepted to, the idea being that he is banned from directing and writing, but there was never anything said about him acting his story out.

Panahi uses white tape to section off his living room to illustrate the constrictions of the young woman’s room. He begins to discuss the opening shots and sets the overall mood of the film. He shows us pictures and video on his iPhone of the two actresses he was debating between for the lead role as well as the location he wanted to use for the indoor setting. Midway through this reenactment however, Panahi’s mood changes quite suddenly and we witness the heartbreak and frustration on his face. He asks himself why he’s even bothering, as movies are meant to be seen and shared by the world, not read out loud in a living room.

This one scene in particular is the defining reason, at least for me, as to why this film works so well. I’ve often been so removed from understanding what motivates artists in any field. Not that I have anything against different forms of art, I’m just not someone who understands process when it comes to creating something. I don’t know what it means to connect with a character from an acting standpoint, nor do I know what it means to express myself through an abstract drawing or painting. I respect the work from an outsider’s perspective and yet, I fully sympathize with Panahi’s situation especially after witnessing this one scene on film. I see how dreadful and truly terrifying it is for an artist like Panahi to essentially be handcuffed from doing what he loves.

Panahi spends the rest of the film doing a variety of things, which includes viewing DVDs of his films and commenting on specific scenes that exemplified to him what filmmaking truly is: collaboration, inspiration and above all, passion. There’s improvisation, there’s magic, there’s all sorts of different things that can happen when making a film and Panahi relishes in every minute of it. It also includes more phone calls and finally a conversation with his apartment building’s maintenance man, where Panahi accompanies him down each floor of his round until the film abruptly ends as they walk outside.

I walked out of this film feeling helpless for this man but also strangely hopeful because a filmmaker like Panahi exists in the first place. He is a man who stands up for what he believes in, has been silenced as a result of his work, and conveys the notion that despite the odds, he isn’t done yet. It’s the passion that exists in all of us; that idea that Andy Dufresne talked about in The Shawshank Redemption; they can lock us up and throw away the key, but they can’t get the hope that we hold inside.

This Is Not A Film is one of those most honest depictions of what it means to love one’s work that I have seen in a long time. It reminds us that film will always remain a staple of any culture and that no matter whose voice is silenced, the truth will always come out.