Caribbean Promise

The Caribbean Film Corner at the Portobello Film Festival was the first of its kind in the UK. On September 16 it presented the work of young, up-and-coming Caribbean filmmakers who have the confidence and enthusiasm to seek a global platform.

The challenging and potent series of short documentaries, dramas and animations that comprised the collection certainly held my attention. A definite part of the allure for me and, I imagine, other members of the audience was the desire to experience Caribbean cinema, an area of film that has not been easily accessible in the UK.

There was ample evidence of compelling content, combined with artistic and technical talent, despite the limited budgets some of the filmmakers had contended with.

I came away feeling very moved and with my mind racing. Powerful and harrowing issues such as race, sexuality, power structures and poverty had been addressed, much of which is equally relevant to both a multi-racial and multi-cultural Caribbean and UK.

The evening opened with a punch with El Regreso Way a powerful Spanish language documentary by Francisco Diaz that charts the life of Ana, a native of the Dominican Republic.

She emigrates from her country of birth as a young adult in the early ’80s to the south side of Williamsburg, Brooklyn, to escape poverty and support herself and her children. The story is told from her perspective as an elderly woman still living in Brooklyn who candidly reflects upon and recounts her biography to the camera.

Ana’s life in both Santa Domingo and New York, although not without its moments of happiness and triumph, is often harrowing and even devastating in emotional terms. The filmmaker succeeds in capturing her naked pain on screen and the fact that she remains deeply traumatised by aspects of her past in spite of the decades that have passed.

Diaz’s major triumph is conveying the essence of this woman and her harsh life, relying not on trite sentimentalism but rather on Ana’s disarming and often amusing honesty. Indeed, Ana’

s character and how she responds to various circumstances is pivotal to this piece. Diaz portrays the clear sense of dignity and pride she has derived from her determination to opt for what she perceives as the honest path over the easy or lucrative way. For instance despite her dire straits she rejects both prostitution and drugs money.

The Faces of the Slave Trade, a gritty documentary by Trinidadian Neigeme Glasgow-Maeda, confronted issues still pertinent to a multi-cultural Britain. The filmmaker depicts how UK society is still very much in the process of integrating elements of its history such as slavery and colonialism.

Glasgow-Maeda examines what the bicentennial of the abolition of the British slave trade in 2007 means to the descendants of slaves living in contemporary Britain.

He draws on a broad collection of faces and experiences and narratives, also successfully using the ironic juxtaposition of images (for instance a black Afro-Caribbean woman poses for a tourist photo with one of the royal guards) to describe the pervasive nature of slavery and its residual effects. The work explores too how descendants react when thy learn about their history and how they manage not to be over powered by it and still engage in a multi-cultural UK without bitterness.

It is worth noting that it is only since September 2008 that the British slave trade has become a compulsory part of the National History Curriculum in addition to the First and Second World War and the Holocaust.

The documentary concludes with an older black man of Afro-Caribbean descent pointing out that white people or at least the working class have historically been enslaved by British oligarchs – they are just less aware of it.

The ensemble included a blistering short called Cold Dead Hands by Kaz Ové – a graphic and hard-hitting dramatic exploration of gun violence from the unexpected perspective of the weapon. The gun takes on a chilling persona and voice of its own and menacingly describes the terrifying powers it transfers to its owner. We see contrasting scenarios where the gun wields its power to instil raw fear and destroy.

A group of 300 middle-class ‘coloured women’ from the West Indies were recruited to the ATS, a branch of the British Army in 1943. Reunion by Frances-Anne Solomon captures on camera their meeting decades later and serves as the first documentation of these individuals’ contribution to the war effort.

Archived UK footage, which includes what now seems absurdly anachronistic and racist commentary, coupled with the women’

s own stories demonstrates the prejudice they battled against in the US and UK. Reunion also demonstrates with ironic humour that repressive aspects of the British Empire, such as abuse of power and hierarchy, occurred along class as well as racial lines, even among the people who were colonised.

The Power of the Vagina by Jimmel Daniel is the film that brought the house down, providing comic relief and leaving the audience gagging for more.

The 21-year-old Trinidadian director, who was present at the screening, explained that he had been partly inspired to make the documentary because he felt topics such as the vagina and sex were conversational taboos in Trinidadian society.

Daniel makes use of a simple but effective method of social research. He walks through city streets parading a massive piece of paper saying ‘VAGINA’ in big, bold letters and then films members of the public’

s reactions and comment. The spontaneous responses from men and women of all ages from various social contexts run the full gamut of emotions from glee to bemusement and make hilarious viewing. This footage is interspersed with more studied interviews including one with a male sex therapist and another with a female professor of gender.

The Power of the Vagina asks pertinent social and political questions that are relevant both within and outside the Caribbean. The film underlines how people seem happy to almost unwittingly hurl around pejorative terms connected with the vagina yet there is a certain veiled mystique about the true power the vagina exerts in real and symbolic terms in society. This is an extremely funny and serious work relevant to men and women.

Apocalypse Martinique’s dramatic French-language contribution by Olivier Ozier Lafontaine was shot to stunning effect on the island and stood out for its exemplary cinematography and editing.

Nine Nights from Jamaica by Ishmail Blagrove is memorable for its disturbingly potent scenes of raw grief incited by the death of Aunt Iris, a ninety-something community matriarch.

Guadeloupian Philippe Mugerin’s Welcome to Jamrock provided a searching documentary centred on Marcus Garvey and the Maroons. This illuminating and important work was undermined by the sometimes lacklustre delivery of the commentary, despite the compelling content.

All in all the night was a revelatory experience that remains with me.