Feature
Encounters of the Non-Fiction Kind
Emma Lennox discusses EIFF's selection of documentaries.

The EIFF is a good place to seek out different perspectives. The festival started life as a celebration of documentary under John Grierson's guiding hand, and it’s heartening to see the tradition for exemplary non fiction films continue into its 64th year. In the last decade documentary as a cinema experience has become a popular genre (Bowling for Columbine 2002, Spellbound 2002, Anvil! The Story of Anvil 2008, etc) and this trend in pop docs was covered at the festival by such light hearted faire as Superhero Me, The People vs George Lucas and Lucky. But it was the buzz surrounding the harrowing Restrepo which led me to something more substantial.
Filmed by two award winning war journalists, Tim Hetherington and Sebastian Junger, Restrepo follows a platoon into the most dangerous battle zone of Afghanistan; the Korengal valley. The cameras, sometimes attached to the soldiers' helmets, never leave the platoon's side and over 90 minutes the audience witness how the men experience the thrills, boredom, depression and heartbreaking moments that are part of every day life in combat. The journalists haven't set out to be political and the admiration shown for the soldiers is genuine, but overall the film builds a clear picture of the futility of this war. Hetherington and Junger are treated as part of the team, and are privy to the planning, action and most importantly, the consequences of the US's interminable fight against the Taliban. By taking this immediate and personal approach, Hetherington and Junger turn the statistics we only hear about in the news, into real people.
Restrepo missed out on the main documentary prize (taken this year by The Oath), but as a piece of photojournalism it is likely to have a long lasting significance and historical import. In the rest of the documentary strand, however, the camera's eye has licence to be a lot more subjective.
The Edge of Dreaming from Scottish director Amy Hardie is a good example of a documentary that crosses the subjective boundaries, not between film maker and subject, but between filmmaker and filmmaker's subconscious mind. It begins with Hardie recalling a vivid dream in which her beloved horse dies. Awake from her nightmare, Hardie takes her camera (it is her constant companion) and walks to the field where she discovers the body of her horse. Hardie has a detached scientist's eye for detail, having researched several science documentaries, but the probing shots of her recently deceased horse reveal an emotive and philosophical resonance. The question of dreams' influence on reality further escalates when she next dreams of her former dead lover, who tells her clearly that she will not live through her 48th year. As Hardie reaches her 48th birthday her mental and physical health twist into a spiral of self doubt. Hardie shoots footage of her close family life and questions her loved ones, but also talks to science experts, so rarely strays into self indulgence. Clever use of animation and images ensure the viewers are swept along on Hardie's personal journey in a fascinating investigation of the space between two realities.
Elsewhere in the programme was strong evidence that non fiction filmmaking is as creative as any other art form. Girl with Black Balloons effectively showcases an artist's vision through its eccentric subject, Bettina Bashyi, who has been resident in the Chelsea Hotel for 40 years and a prolific artist for many more. But it is a sad and lonely woman that filmmaker Corrine Van der Borsch finds on the grand stairway of the infamous New York hotel. Bettina’s work load is so overwhelming and extensive that it has crippled its creator, and she has to sleep curled up on a small chair in the hall of her apartment. A dedicated hermit for her art, Bettina can only be coaxed out by Van der Borsch's persistance, patience and kindness. The bond between these two women is a central to the film, as Bettina becomes something of a muse for Van der Borsch and visa versa. Aside from the relationships, what becomes apparent is Bettina's talent for creating distinctive, thought provoking art in an array of different media. That she has sacrificed her success for the sake of creating yet more photographs, prints, sculptures poetry and video, is at once tragic and compelling.
Another unusual relationship is the focal point in Pietro Marcello's Bocca del Lupo (Mouth of the Wolf) which introduces us to Enzo and Mary, a male/transexual couple who met in prison 20 years ago and have been together ever since. But Marcello uses their relationship, with soundtracks of tapes they sent each other, letters, and interviews to produce a portrait of their native Genova. With beautifully captured shots of the city, and Enzo's return from prison, Marcello mixes in found footage to create a visual poem to the city about love over the passage of time. With only one traditionally shot interview scene in the film, Bocca del Lupo unfolds like an absorbing drama and is testament to the beauty and boundless possibilities for the documentary image.
Emma Lennox