RIDM Reviews 3

Holy Electricity

Not too many films open with a funeral, end with slam dancing and successfully weave a story between the two. This happens in the dismal urban settings and scrapyards of Georgia (the country) where two protagonists scavenge for something useful to sell. But in place of perhaps predictable despair and desperation their hope and good humour forge a madcap business idea… Illuminated crucifixes anyone?

Their patience, inventiveness and eye for the quirky is mirrored by the film’s relaxed pace, eclectic scene choices, and lingering camera work.  Unobtrusively we watch the world of household kitsch and those who trade and cherish it.  But many scenes  don’t quite fit this neat remit. Incidental conversations and encounters – often with much big heartedness and deep soulful singing  – help lead naturally into broad thoughts about friendship, relationships, and even gender identity.

Not new themes, yet pondering universal truths from the bottom of the barrel of Georgian life proves unexpectedly intriguing and entertaining.

Apple Cider Vinegar

“Did we just see a mockumentary about rocks?” my companion asked. My delayed response suggested it’s a good question. Certainly the humour’s there in the narrator’s cute commentary and mischievous  interactions with subjects, but there’s structure, content, and message in this film about the world’s rocks.

Rocks, we are told, are much more than just a record of past life and cataclysms. They are the fabric of everything today too. We mine them, build with them and there are even rocks in our bodies as the narrator discovers in the form of her kidney stone – how on earth did Wedellite, a sediment from Antarctica, get in there she wonders?

It’s not just the past and present; rocks even offer a glimpse into the future. Just look at California’s San Andreas fault to see an earthquake of Biblical proportions in the making. But there’s no need to look too hard, the film warns: “The big earthquake has already happened”. Look at all those plastics we dump into the environment; today’s interlopers will be the rocks of tomorrow.

But will there even be a tomorrow for us – and that dwindling sock of wild animals that find themselves  spliced into the story using grainy webcam footage? Might we suffer the same fate as the dinosaurs? No, the film says; in that analogy “we are the meteor” not the dinosaurs .

A rock-solid (sorry) conclusion maybe, but a bit too long in the coming, well after the film’s cutesy comedic commentary has started to grate and lingering webcam clips have started to bore. Yet, like its important message, its fresh, ground-up perspective, and creative execution make this a film to appreciate not ignore.

The RIDM continues until December 1. Tickets and info HERE.