bertipublishing

This bewildering documentary presents a legitimate artist Adebanji Alade - a contemporary portraitist of skill with a deft technique - who is challenged to create a copy of the Mona Lisa, using the techniques that Leonardo possibly employed (we cannot ever know for sure as this genius experimented with a multiplicity of mediums and techniques).

To his credit, it's with some humility that Alade takes instruction from leading 'experts' in the field of restoration, historicity and painting techniques of the Renaissance. We see how he utilises Cangiante, Chiaroscuro, and Sfumato on a prepared poplar panel. So far so good! Brave effort! The result - the 'reveal' - is a parody of the original. 'La Gioconda', Lisa Gherardini (Mrs Giocondo!) is portrayed in a cartoon style that Mad magazine might have commissioned. Alade is congratulated at the end by the experts - especially an art historian - who utters the immortal words, "Leonardo would have been pleased!"

Laugh, I could have cried!

Of course, by the first encounter with the Nazis, our Hero would have died. The story is rubbish, however the effects, camera work, photography, and sound are impressive. Having said that, it doesn't any contribute positive reasons to holiday in Lapland. But full marks to the actors and crew for enduring the bleak weather, mozzies, and liberal application of the Kensington Gore!

I have a great regard for Finland, it has a heroic history, even more so now with it's belligerent neighbour Mr. V. Putin. I imagine that Sisu is a kind of executive relief for the sado-masochist elements that lurk everywhere today. Mind you, if I were Minister of Tourism for Lapland, I'd sue.

Just don't watch it before eating. Or after eating, come to that - it's not Little Women!

This film, made fifty years after Algeria's independence from France in 1962, has a contemporary resonance. The narrative is based on the story of Djamila Boupacha, a teenager mistakenly arrested for planting a bomb for the NFL. She subsequently endures weeks of sadistic tortures to extract her 'confession'. She is fast-tracked for execution (Djamilla explains that the guillotine is wheeled into the prison yard on the day that executions are due to take place). Whilst the use of torture to extract confessions has already been declared illegal by France, Djamilla's request for a fair trial is denied and you experience the frustration of Gisèle Halimi, Djamila's lawyer for whom the State gives and then takes away. With her execution imminent, the authorities use every device to prevent due process of law.

A subtext is the involvement of France's intellectual elite, Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir - with Dominique Reymond creating a vivid yet restrained portrait of the heroic writer.

Pour Djamila is a truly convincing argument against the use of torture as a political expedient (aka 'extraordinary rendition'). It stands with Costa-Gavras's 1973 State of Siege as testimony to the psychopathic inhumanity of governments and their agencies.

The two leads, Marina Hands and Hafsia Herzi especially, as Djamilla, are totally convincing. The direction is fluid and free of artifice. The disgusting scenes of torture are included without any voyeuristic intent.

A brave and uncomfortable film by the great Caroline Huppert that doesn't pull punches. It also has a heart-stopping dénouement.