Exploring the changing face of Britain at… | Little White Lies

Festivals

Explor­ing the chang­ing face of Britain at Under­wire Film Fes­ti­val 2018

28 Nov 2018

Words by Isha Karki

Three people in elaborate 18th-century costumes, including a woman with curled blonde wig.
Three people in elaborate 18th-century costumes, including a woman with curled blonde wig.
A pro­gramme of eight shorts chal­lenged our per­cep­tions of Britain’s past, present and future.

Found­ed in 2010 with an aim to tack­le gen­der imbal­ance in film, Under­wire is the UK’s only fes­ti­val devot­ed to cel­e­brat­ing female film­mak­ing tal­ent. This years 150 films were cho­sen from 1000 sub­mis­sions, mak­ing it the festival’s biggest edi­tion yet. The stand­out screen­ing event was Is This What Britain Looks Like?’, a col­lec­tion of eight polit­i­cal­ly charged films explor­ing the face of Britain today.

Dear Eng­land, let’s break up.” So ends this ani­mat­ed break-up let­ter from a Por­tuguese immi­grant nego­ti­at­ing a post-Brex­it nation. Angry images of Leave pro­test­ers, Thatch­er, John­son and Farage are inter­twined with dreamy illus­tra­tions of cook­ing and com­mut­ing. Phone set­tings change from Por­tuguese to Eng­lish and fam­i­ly pho­tos are torn asun­der. Dear Eng­land offers a fraught and poignant ode to the sac­ri­fices we make when we immi­grate and the pain of being Othered.

Part doc­u­men­tary, part peri­od dra­ma, Clash cri­tiques the nos­tal­gia-dri­ven, myth-mak­ing nature of British peri­od dra­mas which cel­e­brate Empire and erase peo­ple of colour from Britain’s his­to­ry. The can­did inter­views with queer peo­ple of colour are con­sis­tent­ly inter­rupt­ed – old broad­cast style – with clips of peo­ple in his­tor­i­cal cos­tume. The film final­ly ends with the actors in gowns, bon­nets and wigs, drink­ing tea, gal­lop­ing around East Lon­don, tri­umphant­ly reclaim­ing the visu­al space and rewrit­ing the sto­ry of Britain.

Sev­en­ty-year-old wid­ow­er, Elspeth, rejects her neigh­bour Gurmeet’s friend­ship, feels alien­at­ed from her diver­si­fy­ing com­mu­ni­ty, and inter­rupts a mul­ti-cul­tur­al cel­e­bra­tion by belt­ing out an Eng­lish’ song. In a humor­ous and mov­ing scene show­cas­ing the pow­er of empa­thy, Gurmeet wins her over. Per­haps unin­ten­tion­al­ly, the film also pro­vokes oth­er ques­tions: is the onus always on the minor­i­ty to be the bet­ter per­son? How would Elspeth’s xeno­pho­bic Don’t touch me with your filthy hands” com­ments be received if her char­ac­ter wasn’t frail and grieving?

This beau­ti­ful­ly shot doc­u­men­tary explores Margate’s Wal­pole Bay Tidal Pool through its hey­day and eco­nom­ic decline. Through a series of inter­views, the diverse cast of locals tell their sto­ries, speak­ing on men­tal health and neu­ro­di­ver­si­ty, forg­ing a con­nec­tion through the pure joy of swimming.

What is life real­ly like at Yarl’s Wood Immi­gra­tion Removal Cen­tre? Through phone calls, Call­ing Home reimag­ines how the lim­bo-like exis­tence impacts women’s men­tal health. The doc­u­men­tary is pow­er­ful­ly bleak – the speak­er describes shap­ing nose rings from sta­plers, a des­per­ate attempt to hold onto her sense of self – yet there is also a glim­mer of resis­tance in these small acts of survival.

Filmed in a Leave strong­hold as a direct response to Brex­it, Learn­ing to Swim fol­lows Ingrid, her son and Ahmed, a Syr­i­an refugee they wel­come into their home in the coun­try­side. This qui­et doc­u­men­tary spot­lights Ahmed’s deter­mi­na­tion to improve his Eng­lish, learn swim­ming and excel in his new career. The bond between the three is a heart-warm­ing reminder of the pow­er of indi­vid­u­als to affect change in the lives of others.

Set in a typ­i­cal sea­side bed and break­fast, Full Eng­lish charts the decline of Eng­lish’ tra­di­tion through Gwen, the pro­pri­etor, who is fix­at­ed on pro­vid­ing the best Eng­lish break­fast. Both visu­als and sound­track are intense and, through rep­e­ti­tion and jar­ring chords, offer a claus­tro­pho­bic char­ac­ter study of a frag­ment­ing mind.

Cry Rosa fol­lows a mixed-race school­girl in 1980s Belfast as she becomes the tar­get of vio­lent racist bul­ly­ing. Grace Flem­ing is exem­plary in the title role – her character’s jubi­lant love of music, increas­ing self-hatred and desire to be white, and final­ly her mature under­stand­ing of her bul­lies show­cas­es an arc of resilience, resis­tance and empa­thy, clos­ing the pro­gramme on a hope­ful note.

Under­wire Film Fes­ti­val took place 16th-25th Novem­ber. For more info vis­it under​wirefes​ti​val​.com

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