Findings from the 2016 London Feminist Film… | Little White Lies

Festivals

Find­ings from the 2016 Lon­don Fem­i­nist Film Festival

23 Aug 2016

Words by Sarah Jilani

Vibrant illustration depicting four women of diverse backgrounds, wearing colourful clothing and carrying baskets or brooms, set against a pastoral landscape.
Vibrant illustration depicting four women of diverse backgrounds, wearing colourful clothing and carrying baskets or brooms, set against a pastoral landscape.
Refugee women from beyond the Mid­dle East made their voic­es heard at this year’s festival.

The Lon­don Fem­i­nist Film Fes­ti­val is on a mis­sion to inspire activism and dis­cus­sion, to sup­port women direc­tors and to ensure that fem­i­nist films are seen by a wider audi­ence. Since the fes­ti­val was estab­lished in 2012 the term fem­i­nism” has evolved – its pro­file has risen thanks to numer­ous celebri­ties and pub­lic fig­ures iden­ti­fy­ing them­selves as fem­i­nists, includ­ing Pres­i­dent Oba­ma in a recent mag­a­zine pro­file in Glam­our, while grow­ing con­cern over the lack of gen­der equal­i­ty and racial diver­si­ty has also affect­ed its image. This year the LFFF showed its keen inter­est in the lat­ter, devot­ing screen­ings and dis­cus­sion time to those women who are most vul­ner­a­ble today: migrants and asy­lum seekers.

Com­ing at a time when the top­ic of refugees is hot­ter than ever and all eyes are on Syr­ia, the LFFF broad­ened the dis­cus­sion to African women refugees and the chal­lenges they face at their coun­try of des­ti­na­tion. Open­ing with a 25th anniver­sary screen­ing of Prat­i­b­ha Parmar’s 1991 film A Place of Rage – a cel­e­bra­tion of African-Amer­i­can women with­in the con­text of the civ­il rights, black pow­er and fem­i­nist move­ments – the pro­gramme con­trast­ed this empow­ered his­to­ry with lat­er screen­ings of Priya Sundham’s short ani­ma­tion Set Her Free and the Women’s Resource Cen­tre direct­ed doc­u­men­tary Women Speak Out! Ntombi. These films tell the sto­ries of women refugees who had arrived in the UK only to find them­selves detained at Hol­loway and Yarl’s Wood prisons.

In an live­ly post-screen­ing pan­el dis­cus­sion led by cam­paign­ers from the Women’s Resource Cen­tre and Women for Refugee Women, South African dancer, musi­cian and ex-detainee Ntombi under­lined the bond between cre­ative self-expres­sion and sur­vival: Art is my way of breath­ing. It’s how I escape. When things are dif­fi­cult I sing or dance my heart out.” Her respons­es got every­one think­ing, ques­tion­ing and ask­ing how to help, while Melis­sa Chap­lin from the Research­ing Mul­ti­lin­gual­i­ty at Bor­ders project remind­ed of the pow­er­ful con­nec­tion between social jus­tice and film: film allows peo­ple to see through another’s eyes, and can help us to understand.”

The col­lec­tion of doc­u­men­taries, short films, and ani­ma­tions also includ­ed the Euro­pean pre­mière of Magen­ta Baribeau’s 2015 doc­u­men­tary No Kids for Me, Thanks!. Fea­tur­ing West­ern women who decid­ed not to have chil­dren, it explores the fre­quent equat­ing of a women’s worth with­in soci­ety with moth­er­hood. A dark­er ver­sion of Lit­tle Red Rid­ing Hood’ in the form of Cana­di­an film­mak­er Rebec­ca Murrell’s The Trees offers a beau­ti­ful palette of black, grey and splash­es of red in an visu­al style that will please any fan of sil­hou­ette ani­ma­tion. With its wel­come look at the clichés and expec­ta­tions women face today, The Trees adds that visu­al­ly excit­ing touch miss­ing from straight­for­ward documentary.

Though the mood is engaged and the sub­ject urgent, this year’s pro­gramme also includ­ed fun­ny and warm addi­tions. One Thou­sand and One Teardrops, an award-win­ning ani­ma­tion by Iran­ian new­com­er Fateme Ahma­di, uses cut-outs and archive footage in a tongue-in-cheek look at the con­tentious­ness of women’s cloth­ing in Iran­ian his­to­ry. Cred­i­ble Like­able Super­star Role Mod­el by Rebec­ca Brand is a self-described pop-u-men­tary” about an alter­na­tive tween role mod­el, and high­lights the hyper-sex­u­alised world of mar­ket­ing to sev­en to 12-year-old girls. The uplift also stems from some­thing the whole pro­gramme, and the expe­ri­ences of the women involved, have in com­mon: art is a vehi­cle for free­dom when obsta­cles are struc­tur­al and entrenched. The LFFF cap­tures that bal­ance well: it is clear about its cam­paign­ing agen­da, but pro­vides an inclu­sive week­end for dis­cus­sion through film and storytelling.

Find out more about the LFFF at lon​don​fem​i​nist​film​fes​ti​val​.com

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