DAY 3: Forum's Experimental Docs

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Curatively independent and part of the Arsenal (Institute for Film and Video Art), the 35 films in Forum’s 2020 selection boast experimental and risk-taking fare. It’s traditionally a harder sell compared to other sections, but this year’s batch is arguably one of the strongest in recent years. That being said, there are disappointments… Two experimental docs are vying for your attention this year, with wildly varying results.

Viera Čákanyová’s documentary FREM is a disquietingly mesmeric gem. It tackles the subject of the current climate crisis by providing a beautiful yet haunting portrait of King George Island off the coast of Antarctica, seen through the eyes of an artificial intelligence. From this POV, we survey the gorgeous snowscape, investigate the environment and see this part of the world from an outsider’s perspective. We are able to visualise the thought process of an AI and the camera movements even give it a personality, as it approaches its new surroundings with trepidatious curiosity.

FREM is a unique mix of photography, drone shots and experimental filmmaking, a futurist mood piece that immerses you into an alien perspective, to better help us understand that we’re essentially a blip on the grand scale of things. This unique approach works wonders: instead of mining the topic of climate change for all the necessary but familiar material, Čákanyová has audaciously created a sensory experience. The glitches inherent to the sound design create an eerie and foreboding mood, and bolster meaning. It dares you to think differently, not only about the environment but also about humanity and the limitations of our place within the ecosystem.

One word of warning – wrap up warm, because some of the icescapes in this unmissable documentary can provoke frostbite!

From the sublime to the downright ridiculous, let’s talk about Maggie’s Farm. Before anyone gets even the slightest bit excited, let’s temper those flames: while it might share a name with (and even feature a cover of) the Bob Dylan track, James Benning’s documentary has nothing to do with the nasal troubadour. It’s a portrait of the buildings and terrain of the California Institute of the Arts. This may sound like we’re about to get another essential Frederick Wiseman-esque observational mosaic portraying public spaces as living organisms, but think again. These are the longest 84 minutes of your life, an excruciatingly inert collection of static shots, each lasting about 3:30 minutes long. Benning fecklessly plonked his camera in several spots, watch in hand, and counted down. Cut to the next dull shot. Lather, rinse, repeat. The first 30 minutes take place in the surrounding park and woods; we are then treated to restrictively-framed shots of neon-lit corridors, empty hallways and bins. Lots of bins.

The press screening prompted a fair few walkouts, which was one reason to stay until the end –beyond respecting the golden rule stating that leaving a screening before the end credits equates to forfeiting your right to credibly write about a film, of course. Watching the life force ebbing away from fellow innocent bystanders who never asked for this  audience members and placing mental bets on who was going to snap and stride out next became more enthralling than the actual images on screen. Indeed, as a test of endurance and a damn good excuse for a dextroamphetamine smoothie, this uninspired museum installation masquerading as a documentary gets full marks. However, as a daring piece of filmmaking with even the slightest hint of something to say, it’s as infuriating as it is shallow.

If Maggie’s Farm sounds like something you’d enjoy or you suspect that any potential meaning went straight over this reviewer’s head, then more power to you and best of luck. But if there are audience warnings for violence and graphic sexual content in films, then the marketing for Maggie’s Farm should be plastered with the visible sign: WARNING – YOUR €13 ARE BUYING YOU 84 MINUTES OF SOUL-CRUSHINGLY INERT STILL FRAMES, SEVERAL OF WHICH ARE LUNATICALLY OBSESSED WITH WASTE RECEPTACLES.

All together now: “I ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more / No, I ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more…”