The 2007 Tribeca Film Festival

A look at some of the most promising women's films from this year's festival

By Pamela Grossman
Published: May 21st, 2007 | 1:49pm

The Tribeca Film Festival blew through New York City with 157 feature films, various notable shorts, film-related discussion panels, and celebrity-studded events (including the premiere of Spiderman 3 - held not in Manhattan's Tribeca but in Spidey's home borough of Queens). As usual at this festival, documentaries were a strong suit; but a variety of this year's features and narrative shorts were compelling as well. Films by women and/or based on women's lives were represented over a wide range of approaches and themes, adding up to an impressive and often inspiring display. Below are a few of the highlights. Some will be easy to find on a screen near you, while others might take some digging; but all are strongly recommended viewing.

2 Days in Paris
Who knew that behind the poised exterior of stunning Julie Delpy lay a sensibility resembling Woody Allen in his comic prime? The multitalented Frenchwoman not only wrote and directed this lovably jumpy romantic comedy but edited it, composed its score, and is one of its stars. Delpy offers a tender, wry, and often laugh-out-loud funny look at life with Jack and Marion, New York-based lovers stopping through Paris on their way home from a vacation in Italy.

Marion's overbearing parents (played, with wit and heart, by Delpy's real-life Mom and Dad) live there; as do her somewhat passive-aggressive sister and, it turns out, various lovers from her past. Jack (an endearing Adam Goldberg) mostly overcomes the language barriers, the cultural gaps, the casual dissing of all things non-French, and the national embarrassment that is his fellow Americans on vacation (armed with The Da Vinci Code), but the parade of exes knocks him for a tougher loop. Delpy's love and respect for all her characters is evident, and how well the film fits together speaks to her skill as a director. Even briefer performances (as in one scene where Jack encounters an eco-terrorist in a McDonald's) are rich and memorable. This film will open across Europe through the summer and in the States on August 10th; look forward to it.

So
Traveling through Australia, on the other side of the world from home, director Aimee Jennings talks with strangers, spends lots of time alone, skydives, scuba dives, and bungee jumps, and more - all while contemplating her past, her future, and the nature of connection in the film-essay So. The film was inspired by a classic film-essay, Sans Soleil, directed by French legend Chris Marker, which also draws upon travel and the discoveries, internal and external, that it invites.

Knowing she won't re-meet most people she encounters, Jennings tells them whatever she chooses: "These people think my name is Nicole," she says in a voiceover as a photo of her smiling among fellow travelers takes the screen. Anxiety about being single is on her mind as the trip unfolds: At one point she wears a t-shirt reading "Lonely Losers Club," and she dedicates the film to "Spinsters." She looks way too young and way too cute to be a traditional spinster; but hey, we've all got our perceptions, and if Jennings feels like a spinster, she figures she's got the right to say so. She mentions that many called her "brave" for taking this trip on her own - but what's so brave, she wonders, about going somewhere she'd been wanting to go for years? And in any case, she knows herself better: "Is this the face of bravery?" she asks as the screen shows her cowering on the edge of a bungee-jump cliff, strapped in but unable to leap. In time, she faces her fears and, literally and otherwise, jumps ahead despite them. "So I was afraid," her voiceover says, while the screen shows her completing a beautiful bungee jump at last. "So?" Words to live by.

Shame
The first documentary feature from director Mohammed Naqvi could just as aptly have been called Courage, or perhaps Strength: Rejecting the shame she's told must be hers, its protagonist becomes a model of determination and grace as the film takes us into a social/political system to which our access is usually limited.

In the summer of 2002, the younger brother of Pakistani villager Mukhtaran Mai was accused of a crime, and the village's tribal council approved a punishment to be taken against Mai herself. It's unclear what the sanctioned punishment to be delivered actually was; but Mai was gang-raped and then held on display to her townspeople. The traditional response for a woman thus "shamed" is suicide. But Mai decided to seek justice through the courts, stating that she would rather "go out fighting" than harm herself or cower in fear. When she won reparations from the Pakistani government, she used them to open two schools - one for girls, one for boys - in her town, as well as a women's crisis center and a hospital currently under construction. Never having received an education as a child, Mai enrolled in her own girls' school and is currently in the 5th grade. The children of her attackers attend the schools as well.

Perhaps aided by his own Pakistani heritage, director Naqvi seems to understand this story in context, and he conveys it with depth and true sensitivity, bringing us along as Mai is celebrated by human-rights groups (and attendant celebrities) internationally while facing death threats - and the overturning of her attacker's verdict - at home. All the while, she refuses to falter. "If you can help me get justice," she tells the court before her initial trial, "then I am ready." Look for this film to be screened on Showtime on May 31st.

Doubletime
Director Stephanie Johnes' Doubletime is a beautiful example of how rich the documentary form can be: Starting with a look at two top-notch double-dutch-jumprope teams heading to Harlem's Appollo theater for a major competition, Johnes tells a story of race, money, and preconceived cultural notions - and of human bonds that can supercede all these.

North Carolina's Bouncing Bulldogs is a primarily white, upper-middle-class team; the troop's beloved coach, Ray Frederick, is black and grew up on a farm, his childhood far different than that of most kids he coaches. Demanding but hugely supportive, Frederick is a mentor to many of his jumpers ("I never was that close to my dad," says one). Meanwhile, South Carolina's Double Dutch Forces are primarily black and hail from families with less money. Their own formidable and empowering coach, Joy Holman, chokes up only once during the film: when she explains that "I don't want these kids to think they can't make it because they can't afford it." Tia, a powerhouse for the Forces, talks of wanting to be a doctor and a lawyer: "I really want to be a pro basketball player," she reveals, "but you've gotta have a backup plan." Erica, an equally determined member of the Bulldogs, is shown preparing for her Bat Mitzvah in the midst of her double-dutch training. Tim, a national jump champion who's in the minority as a black Bulldog member, faces any resulting issues with a practical, laid-back demeanor and one of the sweetest shy smiles to hit a movie screen in recent times. Through it all, these kids pull off jumping tricks that can boggle the mind. Johnes' film is a tribute to the jumpers and their coaches as well as a terrific examination of social and economic issues faced every day in America.

Jerabek
"Pain Is Weakness Leaving the Body": That's the slogan on a t-shirt worn by Wisconsin teenager Nick Jerabek in this moving documentary, the first from director Civia Tamarkin. Nick's older brother, Ryan, a Marine in Iraq, was killed there just months after his basic training; now Nick himself wants to join the Marines and serve in the Infantry. Tamarkin interviews Nick and Ryan's parents and older brother, along with Ryan's squad members and childhood friends, for this intimate look at the Iraq war and its various costs. Ryan's fellow Marines speak of their disillusionment with the Iraqis they thought would welcome them ("They turned on us," one states) and are near tears as they remember Ryan, who was clearly beloved. Meanwhile, in the Jerabek home, Ryan's mother cries openly as she sorts through Ryan's belongings - while Nick watches a Marine recruitment tape in the next room.

Tamarkin, who covered Vietnam as a journalist in the beginning of her career, brings to the film a reporter's careful attention - but she also brings tremendous empathy and warmth. The candor with whom her subjects speak is a credit to her abilities; and the result is a work of intelligence and strong compassion.

Cake Eaters
Kristen Stewart's gorgeous performance as Georgia, a teenager with a rare disease of the nervous system, is the heart of Mary Stuart Masterson's directorial debut. Fearing she won't have much time to savor, or even touch on, many of life's richest experiences, Georgia's in a hurry to soak in what she can. Romantically, her sights are on Beagle (Aaron Stanford), a brooding but kind young man who works in her school's cafeteria - but she has to conceal the budding romance from her overprotective mother (Melissa Leo). As this gentle drama unfolds, we find that Georgia's and Beagle's families are joined in ways they'd had no idea of: Much has been hidden, and everyone's hoping for forgiveness. But the film belongs primarily to Stewart, in a performance so strong you forget she's performing at all.

We Are Together
If this were a fictional narrative, viewers might complain that its premise seemed unbelievable: Orphaned children in South Africa, with some of the loveliest and, in fact, sunniest natures you could imagine, bolstering themselves by singing. Singing? Sunny? Wouldn't they be enraged and acting out? But this is a documentary, and indeed, the children sing like angels, all the while supporting one another and navigating life with a joie de vivre that "inspiring" can barely describe.

Slidile Moya, 12 at the time of filming (and credited as a writer on the film), has lost both of her parents to the AIDS epidemic in Africa. She and some of her siblings live at the Agape orphanage in KwaZulu Natal, but they visit their older siblings regularly at their former home. The Moya family has always sung together informally, and they continue to do so; meanwhile, at Agape, a choir is formed that brings its members pleasure and a sense of strength. Eventually, it will also bring them adventure, recognition, and a chance for their voices to be heard in all ways.

This film may well break your heart, a few times over, but don't worry: It will also put your heart back together, in better condition than before. Sorrow and loss are evident, but the film is not about them: It's about hope, resillience, love, and the ability to find joy.

We Are Together won the coveted Audience Award at Tribeca. It will be on HBO next year but may - and certainly should - get theatrical release before then. Proceeds from the film and from the Agape Choir's CD benefit the children, the orphanage, and HIV/AIDS projects (see wearetogether.org and keepachildalive.org).

A Walk Into the Sea
"Every family history has its missing," says director Esther Robinson. "People whose lives diverge from the accepted narrative are often excised, but their presence hovers....My grandmother never spoke about my Uncle Danny, but she kept a separate shelf of books about the Warhol Factory." Budding filmmaker Danny Williams was, for a time, Andy Warhol's lover and a Factory member. But when others in that group felt that perhaps he was getting too much credit or attention, they began to freeze him out. Meanwhile, his family had its own issues with his sexuality and with some of his life choices. At age 26, while visiting relatives in New England, Williams took his mother's car to the shore and was never seen again. What exactly happened remains a mystery; but Robinson, who was not yet born when Williams disappeared, has created a beautiful portrait of families, both biological and chosen: their importance, their struggles, and their limitations. She has also done her uncle a tremendous service. Examples of Danny Williams' radiant film work are cut throughout this film, which won Tribeca's NY Loves Film documentary award.