I’ve read most many of the capsule descriptions of narrative features playing at the 2022 Santa Barbara Film Festival, and, as you might presume, a good portion are about women (some older or middle-aged, some BIPOC, mostly young) grappling with some kind of oppression or stunning setback or tragedy or medical affliction or suppressed trauma, and gradually achieving some kind of modest breakthrough, perhaps through a relationship with someone in the same boat or by connecting with cultural roots or facing inner fears, etc.
We’re basically talking about films that offer constructive instruction about how to cope with transitional issues. A higher percentage of films directed by women and people of color (which is obviously welcome and exciting), and a fair amount of frowning at the idea of older white males doing or saying anything of any consequence. Inclusive, humanist, progressive, emotionally supportive 21st Century values.
I love the documentaries. Like Alexandre O. Phillipe‘s The Taking, a 76-minute doc “about the mythmaking behind Monument Valley, the symbolism it conveys in Westerns and its role in advertising, as well as its significance during the conquest of the West, all while being situated on sovereign Navajo land. This film explores how this particular stretch of Native land came to embody the fantasy of the Old West.”
My favorite film of the week so far has been Channing Tatum and Reid Carolin‘s Dog, which I paid to see at Santa Barbara’s Fiesta a couple of days ago. No one’s idea of a great or exceptional film, but a reasonably pleasing, emotionally accessible road-trip flick. It didn’t bother me, I paid attention the whole time, the dog (Lulu) is cool, I chuckled once or twice, and Tatum’s weight is down where it used to be.
