ON AIR: The New Classical FM
-
ClassicalFM

Film Review: Wildhood & After Yang

Arts Review2022-3-11By: Marc Glassman

 

Love can be Complicated

Wildhood and After Yang reviewed

By Marc Glassman

 

Wildhood

Bretten Hannam, director and writer

Starring: Phillip Lewitski (Lincoln), Joshua Odjick (Pasmay), Avery Winters-Anthony (Travis), Joel Thomas Hynes (Arvin), Michael Greyeyes (Smokey), Savonna Spracklin (Sarah), Becky Julian (elder Mi’kmaq woman)

 

Wildhood is an extraordinary film. Two-spirited non-binary Mi’kmaq director and writer Bretten Hannam plunges us into a world of anger and depravity among poor white Maritimers and then slowly brings their story forward into a tale of the redemptive power of Indigenous culture, offering the viewer hope and a true emotional release by the end. I’ve rarely been so moved by a Canadian film. Hannam has created a film of intensity and power rarely seen in this country.

The film starts with half-brothers Lincoln and Travis being abused by their terrifying father Arvin, who, in turns out, has lied that Sarah, Link’s mother, is dead. When the two boys run away, they’re aided by Pasmay, a gay Mi’kmaq, who fancies Lincoln and doesn’t mind fighting Arvin to secure Link’s freedom.

Wildhood mixes some of the most attractive genres in cinema: the road movie, the coming-of-age film and the first romance narrative into one engaging feature. The story is built around a journey, Lincoln’s search for his mother. Once he knows that Sarah is alive, Link is single-minded in his path, which is to find out who his mother is and why she abandoned him. Handsome, “big of heart” as Pasmay characterizes him, and singularly loyal, Lincoln brings his half-brother and Mi’kmaq friend along on his quest.

Along the way they meet Smokey, a funny, charismatic Mi’kmaq chef, who takes them to a strange bordello and puts them in the proper direction to find Sarah. The road to Lincoln’s mother is long and arduous but beautifully rendered by cinematographer Guy Godfree, already an award-winner for the terrific East Coast Canadian film Maudie

Wildhood depicts Pasmay and Lincoln having the kind of wonderfully sexy relationship that used to be the exclusive territory of heterosexuals but now is fine for anyone. (I watched the film with two women whose endorsement of the two people making love under a waterfall couldn’t have been more full-throated or supportive.) 

The denouement between Lincoln and Sarah—son and mother—is freighted with significance. Even a very good film can go wrong at such a significant point but the performances by Phillip Lewitski and Savonna Spracklin are so well done that one simply surrenders to their intimate force. 

Bretten Hannam has directed their cast superbly. Stand outs include Michael Greyeyes who is funny and appealing as Smokey; Becky Julian as the funny powerful elder Mi’kmaq woman; Joshua Odjick in the difficult role of Pasmay, Avery Winters-Anthony, effortless as Travis, and the brilliant writer/musician/actor Joel Thomas Hynes as the absolutely scary Arvin. 

Wildhood is a film that should be seen. The pace might be a bit faster, and the story could’ve had more complications, but these are minor cavils in a work that is so moving and accomplished. Bretten Hannam’s feature is a breakthrough in Canadian cinema: a non-binary romantic drama. 

 

After Yang

Kagonada, director and writer

Starring: Colin Farrell (Jake), Jodie Turner-Smith (Kyra), Justin H. Min (Yang), Malea Emma Tjandrawidjaja (Mika), Haley Lu Richardson (Ada), Ritchie Coster (Russ), Sarita Choudhury (Cleo), Clifton Collins, Jr. (George)

 

What makes us human beings? Is there such a thing as a soul? Could you fall in love with an android? Or have him or her as a son or daughter?

Aren’t those good questions for a film?

Some people love science fiction for the special f/x and the grand adventurous scenarios. Others prefer the smaller, more poetic sci-fi stories, those that are more about ideas and less about action. Perhaps the best thing about the emergence of the genre as a big-bucks entity capable of financing a two-part Dune costing more than most countries’ GNP is that some enterprising producers will turn around and put money into thought-provoking projects like After Yang.

It’s sometime in the future. Jake, a white Irish tea specialist and Kyra his high-powered beautiful Black wife have a mixed family, with an adopted Chinese daughter Mika and a later addition, an older Chinese android son, Yang. The film starts as Yang takes a family photo but, disturbingly, he appears to be alienated from the group and ailing physically. 

Then, in an absolute burst of inspiration, they and other people we will encounter in the film, dance with their families, only some of whom we’ll meet, to high tempo techno music. That’s After Yang’s credit sequence but it also elevates the film instantly to metaphor. 

As the narrative properly begins, it turns out that Yang can’t be awakened the morning after the family photo was shot. Mika is bereft: what has happened to her older brother? Jake has more time to handle the family drama since Kyra is busy with big projects, so he tries to find the shop where he purchased Yang second hand. It turns out that the company has gone out of business. 

We find out that there’s one firm, the unsettlingly titled Brothers and Sisters, which controls the production and repair of androids. If Jake were to bring Yang to them, he would be destroyed, and smaller repair shops have been warned not to operate on older androids. Eventually, he gets a repairman to do a simple operation, which removes a small camera from Yang. When Jake brings that camera to a museum specialist, it turns out that the device holds Yang’s memories. 

Jake finds himself in a dilemma. It seems that Yang can’t be revived but what should he do with him? The museum wants him for research and display purposes and the repairman would love to sell off his parts. What should he do with Yang?

Complicating the issue and raising the film into the realms of philosophy, art and poetry, Jake goes through Yang’s memories and finds that his android son had something resembling a soul. His past shows that he was in love with an older woman who eventually died and, in the process of mourning her, became close with her great-niece. In flashbacks, it’s clear that he cared for Mika as well, and really tried to teach her about her Chinese heritage. 

The world that Jake, Kyra and Mika inhabit is beautiful but airless. People seem to be passing through their lives by rote, without passion. One also senses that the society they’re living in is operating with deep constraints, though there are only hints of an authoritarian force ruling them. Yang’s life seems like a quiet protest showing that even androids can have dreams and loves. (Or as Philip K. Dick put it, they might be able to dream of electric sheep.)

After Yang is a deliberately small film but it’s made with big ideas. It’s the kind of thoughtful science-fiction, which embraces philosophical questions and complex characters. Video essayist and director Kagonada has made a film that is easy to endorse and admire. Not a blockbuster, it offers a splendid, different, viewing experience.

JOIN CLASSICAL CLUB

ADVERTISE WITH US

To learn about advertising opportunities with Classical FM use the link below:

Listen on the Go

Classical Logo
Download Apps
Download Apps
Marilyn Lightstone Reads
Art End World
Part of
© 2024 | Executive Producer Moses Znaimer