Actors-turned-directors turned heads at Cannes in this submission as well. Here are two films, one from Un Certain Regard and the other part of the Cannes Premieres, that do not rely solely on the actors behind the camera. They are also unusual films, offering two very different things, but nonetheless capturing the commonality of people seeking to affirm who they are while gaining wisdom in the process.
“Club Kid,” Jordan Firstman’s moving song about fatherhood, is a beautiful story, which is late among the surprises at Cannes. After several shorts and online clips and the opinions of the most annoying people exposed to confinement, Firstman makes his first feature directorial, which is now buying with a large amount A24′ of the festival.
This Un Certain Regard film opens in 2016 in Brooklyn with a hypnotic array of rampant drug-taking, sensuality and hot strobe lights. At the center of this busy space is a gay party promoter, Peter—Firstman, a spin on his Internet persona—who dispenses cocaine to all diners. While at the party, two drunken British women proposition Peter for sex. He rejects them. Later, one of them finds her having an affair with another man and decides to create a trio in the back room. Although Peter is angry, when he hears the man who eats the swords he is with is turned on by watching him have sex with a woman, Peter withdraws.
Fast forward ten years and Peter is still going strong, but it’s clear he’s tired. His business partner Sophie (Cara Delevingne), who is equally troubled, is fed up with Peter’s behavior and decides to cut him off from their party company. It’s almost broke, with a rent-controlled apartment in which Nicky (Eldar Isgandarov), a no-nonsense Azerbaijani philosopher, is sleeping on his sofa—Peter is even more alarmed when one of those British women arrives with her son Arlo (Reggie Absolom). His mother is dead and now it’s up to Peter to raise him.
The following is a lovely demonstration of how children can encourage you to be your best self, even if you don’t think you are there yet. Fishman and Absolom have genuine chemistry, fostering a closeness that isn’t your prototypical maudlin father-son movie. There is a real trust in every scene between them. Fishman gets another grade from Diego Calva, who plays Arlo’s wonderful social worker. He is also able to draw real figures from his location into the film, giving it a realistic quality.
While Fishman proves his chops as a director—recounting the late-night New York scene with intensity—he’s equally impressive as an actor. When Arlo’s father-son bond is disrupted by surprising circumstances, the Firstman must shoulder a heavy emotional burden. He doesn’t move. One never gets the sense that one is overreaching or producing expressions and feelings; instead they come with the force of nature as the film’s side-splitting jokes. And even though the film is about a man who wants equality for the sake of his son, “Club Kid” is so insatiably sweet, you wish the party could go on.
Another strange film, this one from Haiti, by Gessica Généus about rhapsodic religious questions “Marie Madeleine.” Starting on a bold note: a dreamlike morning sees a red-headed Black woman wandering by the sea. He will wake up hours later and through him we will see in a POV with short blurry eyes, Joseph (Béonard Kervens Monteau) coming to rescue him. He takes her to the hospital like a prostitute having a miscarriage, which is why the red line runs down her pink dress. The woman, Mary Magdalena (Généus), is a merchant; Joseph, the son of a preacher. The dead man’s father opens a church across the street from Mary’s brothel, a landmine that leads to an explosive confrontation between devout believers and careless prostitutes.
Although Joseph respects God and the Bible, he does not criticize Mary. He encourages her love of photography and brings her into his diverse group of friends, which includes a gay man who is smitten by the shy Joseph. Mary and Joseph are also connected by the loss of their mothers when they were young and often misunderstood by those around them. Both Généus and Monteau deeply understood their characters, especially Monteau—his frame is so closed to the world that it has the solidity of a tabernacle.
When it comes to criticizing the brutality of religious fanaticism, Généus also certainly marries visual narrative with written themes. Joseph’s church building is carefully designed and overbuilt, while Mary’s harlot is open and airy. The director also develops thrilling sequences that burn in the air, like a pageant of queens whose raucous ceremony becomes a moving celebration. Sometimes, Généus can speed up his film, especially in the five minute film that gives space for the tragedy to resolve before neatly gathering and tying up the loose ends. However, “Marie Madeleine” provides soaring images, it is easy to have unshakable faith in this ambitious work.
