July newsletter: Es Taller, Searching for Sugar Man, and California surfing and climbing in the fifties

 
 

Photos: Classiq Journal

 

“The choice is yours to make,
time is yours to take;
some dive into the sea,
some toil upon the stone.

To live is to fly
all low and high,
so shake the dust off of your wings
and the sleep out of your eyes.”

Townes Van Zandt (as preface to the book California Surfing and Climbing in the Fifties)

 
 

 

Viewing

Some Kind of Wonderful, 1987
Howard Deutsch

Of all the cool, rebellious, outcast teens from the other side of the tracks, Watts from Some Kind of Wonderful must be my favourite. Played by Mary Stuart Masterson to perfection, Watts is a street wise-rebel yell-new romantic tomboy that flaunts the subcultural musical theme of the 1980s, her appearance flawlessly punctuated by the thudding drum beats of the soundtrack.

When he made Some Kind of Wonderful in 1987, Howard Deutch had only done one other film (both were scripted by John Hughes), Pretty in Pink (1986), and a few music videos for Billy Idol and Billy Joel, and had worked on trailers for Francis Ford Coppola, Woody Allen and Martin Scorsese. But his naturalistic approach and his sensibility for young characters have never been more deeply felt, especially visually, than in this music-ridden teen movie centered on a non-conventional love triangle.

I can not talk about this film and about Mary Stuart Masterson’s character without talking about the music. It’s the music that takes us from the start through to the end of the story, many times on the drum beats of Watts herself – even when she doesn’t play, she carries her drum sticks around. John Hughes’ thirst for 1980s music is part of his cinematic teen universe. But no other soundtrack from his films compares to the one in Some Kind of Wonderful – he reportedly wrote the film to the music. It’s this very soundtrack that I had in mind when I read Billy Idol’s words in his book: “With our slightly more straight-ahead rock ‘n’ roll direction, we picked up an audience that wasn’t exclusively punk. So we outraged some purists but drew in music lovers and started created the larger-than-life images that went beyond punk and into the ‘80s. […] We were focusing on our own obsessions, problems, and frustrations, but also adding in romance instead of just negativity.” Billy Idol was a rock star of the eighties, with a punk pedigree to boot, so how could his music not be related to this film? His song, Catch My Fall, is on the soundtrack.

 

Les felins, 1964
René Clément

At the 4th of July party that Jane Fonda threw in 1965 at her Malibu home that she had recently rented with her future husband, Roger Vadim, the old Hollywood and the new Hollywood came face to face for the very first time. Or at least it was one of the first occasions when the old guard (the guest list included names such as William Wyler, Gene Kelly, Darryl Zanuck, Lauren Bacall, Sam Spiegel, Henry Fonda) met with the will-be protagonists of the American New Wave (Warren Beatty, Tuesday Weld, Jean Seberg, Dennis Hopper, Peter Fonda), as both groups were barely starting to realise that things in Hollywood were about to change.

At that time in 1965, Jane Fonda had not yet become involved in political activism, but her views had already started to spread beyond her second-generation Hollywood movie actor status, as she had taken up work in France and life in Paris was exposing her to a different kind of filmmaking, at the height of the nouvelle vague. Moreover, she became friends with Simone Signoret and Yves Montand, which awakened her political consciousness about the war in Vietnam. A few good years before her politically-charged and critically-acclaimed roles in Klute (1971) and Coming Home (1978), Fonda was about to become increasingly radical and to start to perceive her role in Hollywood differently.

Fonda lived for six years in France, after she accepted the role in René Clément’s film Les félins (1964), starring opposite Alain Delon. In her autobiography, My Life So Far, Fonda recalls how “France seemed to be in the cards. French director René Clément flew to Los Angeles to pitch me a film idea that would co-star Alain Delon… I agreed. I liked the idea of putting an ocean between me, Hollywood and my father’s long shadow.”

René Clément’s classic thriller finds Alain Delon, as Marc, trapped in the toils of a wealthy widow, Barbara (Lola Albright), and her niece, Melinda (Jane Fonda), after he finds shelter in their lavish home as he was trying to escape his pursuers after he had made the mistake of seducing the wife of an American gangster. Once in their chateau, Marc realises he is the pawn in another plot, driven by two women this time, and there is little but one thing that he can do about it. Alain Delon was at the height of his sullen beauty and sartorial elegance in the 1960s, and in this film, René Clément uses Delon’s magnetic, unattainable and untamable screen presence a little differently than in Plein soleil.

But it is Jane Fonda who steals the scene in this film. Her performance veers between diffident behaviour and unrepressed provocation, as she jumps from Pierre Balmain elegant dresses into swimsuits and men’s oversized shirts. In the presence of Fonda, Delon’s persona is much more quietly felt, just like his one suit quietly compliments the more extensive wardrobe that Jane has at her disposal. She looks incredibly good in the timeless Balmain sheath dresses or in the stunning white waist-cinching full-skirted dress, but so perfectly at ease in the more casual clothes, jeans, t-shirts, capri pants, summer shirts and strappy sandals. But a polished surface can conceal darker things, hidden thoughts, social goals.

 

Searching for Sugar Man, 2012
Malik Bendjelloul

A whirlwind of a documentary that captures your attention with the thrill of a mystery train, about Detroit-based musician Sixto Rodriguez, hailed as the next Bob Dylan in the late 1960s, but who fell into oblivion after two commercially unsuccessful albums. Unbeknownst to him though, his music became the sound of revolution in Apartheid-broken South Africa. Years later, two fans from Cape Town set out to find out what had happened to “Sugar Man”. I knew nothing about this film until I saw it in the lineup of the Provence Arts Festival du Film (more about it further down in the newsletter), and I advise you to do the same. It’s beautiful and strange and emotionally charged.

 

 

Reading

In the most beautiful village in the Tramuntana Mountains in Mallorca, Valdemossa, there is a restaurant located in an old garage. Es Taller is a place that does something to you the moment you step inside, before you even taste its delicious food. It has an energy to it, a pulse that beats through you. Its cool, cultural, bohemian vibes make you feel at the threshold of discovering something new. By the entrance, past the large glass doors, on the ceramics table (it’s where ceramic objects made by local artists are displayed), I found the book Es Taller: First Stories, by Gaetano Battaglia. The ten stories carry you into a borderland, an undefined space suspended between reality and reverie, through passage ways and stops in the lives of others not as they were, but as they touched the author’s along the way, mysteriously interwoven, surrendered to natural laws.

One of the best spent afternoon hours this summer would be reading and leafing through the photos of California Surfing and Climbing in the Fifties, a beauty of a book that is like a time capsule of the golden age (“the most exciting time in the life span of any sport or social movement, first dozen years or so when innovation in the equipment and technique comes fast and furious”) of surfing and climbing in California, the 1950s. The countercultures of climbing and surfing and the pioneers riding those waves and heights, whom climber Pete Sinclair called “the last free Americans”. Beyond being immersed in the still untamed beauty of California of those years, it’s something else that reaches your heart. It is the sheer passion for the outdoors, for the sea, for the mountains, the carefree joy of the moment, the humble yet complete surrender to nature in shaping their characters that drove those adventurers, and this comes through in the images. And it’s the image of an unnamed cliff climber in torn tennis shoes, a crude aid sling and steel pitons that speaks of that freedom of thought and being and of that living in the now doing what you love that I want to hold onto as a manifesto against these present times of fame-chasing and instant-gratification seekers.

“When I moved my shop to Ventura to be closer to the surf, the ultimate day was what we called a McNab: Skiing on Pine Mountain, climbing on the Sespe Wall, playing tennis, and surfing the glass-off at C Street or Rincon. Where else in the world except for New Zealand could you pull off a day like that? – Yvon Chouinard

 


 

Listening

 

The soundtrack: Searching for Sugar Man

The album: Coming from Reality, Rodriguez

 

Making

For years now, my favourite kind of magazine has been the quarterly or seasonal publication, the slow-paced kind of magazine that takes (or, the better word would be, I believe, “needs”) time: time to fully live, time to get to know the people, the places, spaces and landscapes, time to write, time to make. The kind that not only gathers information that travels too fast, but crafts its stories slowly, with care and thoughtfulness, and becomes a complete world inviting the reader in. IN PALMA (written in three languages, Spanish, English and German) is a magazine I have discovered this summer on location and it’s been a wonderful companion in discovering the uniqueness of this place under the Mediterranean sun and of what makes something genuinely Mallorcan. It’s a photography book, a travel book, a story book, an object d’art all rolled into one. It is not just another magazine, nor is it for everyone. And that’s a good thing.

 

Exploring

Provence Arts Festival du Film. Held in Ménerbes, one of France’s most enchanting villages, this vibrant and distinctive annual festival is dedicated to documentary cinema and the arts, artists and creativity in all its forms. Last year, its first edition was dedicated to photography, while this year’s edition (July 29th – August 1st) is a celebration of music through documentary cinema. The lineup includes Jane B. par Agnés V., Pianomania, Gimme Shelter, Broken English, One to One: John & Yoko, Playing the Changes: Tracking Darius Brubeck, Searching for Sugarman, Epic: Elvis Presley in Concert, Nous l’orchestre.

 

 

On an end note

Before film and photography, it was moodboards and collages that captured my interest visually, preferably plastered on a wall. Photos torn from magazines, clippings from newspapers, scribbled words, postcards of every kind, drawings and illustrations, all forming a puzzle of images that may or may not fit into an aesthetic or theme, but that had to have the spontaneity to transport me to a certain state of mind. Because what I loved the most about these visual forms was that the images very rarely had the place or location written on them. I long for that feeling of being lost, of being able to dream your own stories, of timelessness when I look at a photograph. It’s one of the reasons I refrain from mentioning the places where I take the photos that I include in my newsletters. It’s not just an acute disregard to oversharing and personal display (aren’t we all saturated with everyone’s seemingly permanent vacation or life-on-the-go?), but an ever-going pursuit of simplicity, an insatiable quest of discovering new places by pure chance and leaving some things unsaid. “Show less than you have, speak less than you know.” Travel and tell no one.

 

The regulars

The interviews, newsletters and podcasts I turn to every week and/or every month because they are that good. Soundtracking, with Edith Bowman. Ruthie’s Table 4 with Ruth Rogers. Fashion Neurosis, with Bella Freud. My New Roots monthly newsletter. Craig Mod’s newsletters: Roden and Ridgeline. Racquet’s Rennae Stubbs tennis podcast. Gone to Timbuktu with Sophy Roberts. Sirene Journal, Racquet, Waves & Woods, and Legénde in print.

 

 
 

“The other morning, in the shade under the hat, I thought I could see the mocking and satisfied smile of those who find themselves at the most virtuous point in the path of their lives and only need to take care of that balance they have achieved, nothing more.”

Gaetano Battaglia (Es Taller: First Stories)

 
 

Posted by classiq in Books, Culture, Film, Newsletter | | Comments Off on July newsletter: Es Taller, Searching for Sugar Man, and California surfing and climbing in the fifties

A library of children’s films

“E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial”, 1982. Universal Pictures, Amblin Entertainment

 

Some things are non-negotiable, and so they should be. A library of books in one’s home is one of them. And I strongly believe that so is a library of films. But even if I am a cinephile and we do own a vast collection of films on physical format in our home, I would have welcomed a thoughtful round-up of children’s films when my son was smaller. But the good part is that we have thus had the chance to try and watch a lot of films together and now, aged 11, he’s already seen a great diversity of films. That’s how this library of children’s films, which will have a permanent home here on the website (see sidebar), was born.

These are the films that have worked best in our home, so if you are wondering why some Pixar films are among my picks while others aren’t, that would be why. We also encourage surprising and thought-provoking stories, without forgoing entertainment. It’s a library created from a very personal perspective (you will see that many of the films listed here have a high level of subjectivity and personal notes attached to them, because of how our family has experienced them, because, after all, that’s the beauty of cinema, isn’t it?). There are also movies like Jaws or Alien that may not be considered quite age-appropriate, but I do believe that this political correctness is too exaggerated. This again is a very personal matter, and a discerning parent should know what’s best for his/her child – I think, for example, that Stand By Me might be trickier to watch than Jaws, Alien or The Birds. However, for easier navigation through the library, which, for the beginning, includes 50+ titles but will be regularly updated as we rewatch movies I haven’t yet included and discover new films, there is an official audience recommendation at each entry.

 

“My Neighbour Totoro”, 1988. Studio Ghibli

 

My Neighbour Totoro, 1988
Hayao Miyazaki

Blessed those who haven’t yet watched Hayao Miyazaki’s films! My Neighbor Totoro is about two sisters finding forest spirits when they move from the city to the rural countryside. Watching the film for the first time several years ago, when my son was about 5, reminded me of the words of another great filmmaker, Abbas Kiarostami: “The most wondrous period in the life of a human being is childhood, when encountering even the most minuscule things becomes a process of radical exploration. It’s a pity we leave those times behind so quickly.” My son was fascinated by the film, but I think I was even more enthralled with it, because I was discovering it myself for the first time and because I was watching it through his eyes, too. It was like a beautiful reminder that it isn’t that difficult to tap into that wondrous period as an adult.

The two little girls can see Totoro and adults can’t. And it made perfect sense for my son, too. He just accepted it, fascinated by the mystery, not so much wondering about the why’s but eager to meet Totoro again and again and accompany him and the girls in their adventure. Children and adults see this film differently, naturally, but it’s equally important for both children and adults. And it’s all because of the genius of Hayao Miyazaki, who weaves the story together with such emotion and intensity. Reality and mythology seem to coexist so naturally in the Japanese culture and daily life. And there is such a ritual to the everyday life for the Japanese, and I noticed how my son loved observing those daily rituals of the girls, or the moments when nothing seems to happen but moments which give both the characters and viewers the respite to just be present, and that’s something very precious. Because it gives the children watching the chance to just think at what has just happened, imagine for a bit what’s about to happen, without keeping them in constant action and distraction. And that is simply extraordinary, letting the children navigate their own feelings and emotions, while giving them joy and astonishment. It’s about telling the story in the most engaging and in the most emphatic way at the same time, and that’s a true gift for children. This is the kind of narrative freedom that you rarely find in films, but more likely in books, and which, combined with the visual power of cinema, gives birth to an emotional honesty and artistry hard to be equaled. (U)

 

“Le renard et l’enfant”, 2007. Bonne Pinoche, France 3 Cinéma, Wild Bunch

 

Le renard et l’enfant (The Fox and the Child), 2007
Luc Jacquet

It takes patience and it takes effort and time to gain others’ trust, especially when you are part of two different worlds. It’s an incredibly valuable lesson for this fast world where we want everything to happen now, and The Fox and the Child is the kind of film that children respond very powerfully to, I believe, because of the way it is told, through the eyes of a little girl and the bond and friendship she forges with a wild animal, which leads to the most wonderful adventure. It also features the most beautiful autumn scenes I have seen in a movie. I recommend the French narrated version. (U)

 

“Mary Poppins”, 1964. Walt Disney

 

Mary Poppins, 1964
Robert Stevenson

I love the feeling that this film gives me that Mary Poppins has a secret life, that she’s someone different than her prim appearance. And children love something and someone different, don’t they? They are drawn to her because she is real yet capable of all those magical things, maybe even hinting at something dark underneath. I keep coming back to the words of Johann Christoph Friedrich von Schiller: “Deeper meaning resides in the fairy tales told to me in my childhood than in any truth that is taught in life.” When all is cheesy and cheeky all the time, how can you know the meaning of magic? That’s why I am so keen on classic fairy tales for children, where they can see both mystery and truth, good and bad, on exposing them to a world of fantasy through books and films. And I also believe they have to discover these worlds when they are young enough to still have that sense of wonder intact. As for the song Chim Chim Cher-ee (just listen to it), there is a mystery to those lyrics and sounds evoking a much darker and introspective lore than what first meets the ear and watching the film during the darker months of the year infuses it with an even much more eerie feeling. (U)

 

“Ernest & Celestine”, 2012. La Parti Productions, Les Amateurs

 

Ernest & Celestine, 2012
Stéphane Aubier, Vincent Patar and Benjamin Renner

Based on Gabrielle Vincent’s books and directed by Stéphane Aubier, Vincent Patar and Benjamin Renner, the film is a simple story about a friendship between a mouse and a bear who should not be friends, because they live in different worlds and societies and they are raised to live in fear or disapproval of the other, but they befriend nonetheless. It is a beautiful and moving message, and one which children of a very young age fully comprehend, and it is so beautifully and humbly rendered. This is a film confident in its ability to convince with kind gestures, not with big words and big action scenes.

The minimalist and expressive hand-drawn watercolour brushstrokes and the blank space left in the frames leave the impression that this is a classic illustrated children’s book brought to life on screen. And that’s what’s so special about the film. Is is a film made for children, like a beautiful transition from books, the first imaginary worlds they familiarise with, to movies, with its simple drawings yet fluid animation. The transition is gentle, as it should be, but no less fascinating. It is not an animated film for adults, like so many Hollywood productions are, which may seem that they are made for children but clearly aimed at adults (with pretentious messages and triumphant endings), it is an animated film with children at heart, in which children and adults alike find joy and meaning. (U)

 

“Jurassic Park”, 1993. Universal Pictures, Amblin Entertainment

 

Jurassic Park, 1993
Steven Spielberg

For a couple of years my son had a passion for dinosaurs. He dreamt, drew and breathed dinosaurs, and the whole family became experts in the Latin names of dinosaurs, and Jurassic Park became one of our go-to family movies. That age has dawned now (and we become nostalgic every time we think of it), but now he’s read the book, too, and Jurassic Park still enters our conversation. We still love it, we still marvel at all that inception idea (and at Michael Crichton’s ingenious mind), we still fear the velociraptor more than the t-Rex (“Clever girl!”), we still think it looks very real, we still get carried away by John Williams’ music, we still can not resist a sequel although we all agree there is just one Jurassic Park film, and I thank Steven Spielberg for learning so well from Hitchcock. “The public is avid for everything that touches the imagination… as long as it remains credible.” – Steven Spielberg
(PG)

 

“Way Out West”, 1937. Hal Roach Studios, Stan Laurel Productions

 

Way Out West, 1937
James W. Home

I wonder, is there anyone in the world who wouldn’t laugh at seeing Oliver Hardy wrapped in a blanket right up to his belly (he’s naked underneath), being towed by a donkey, with his laundry hanging above him? The road is bumpy and he is grumpy. Stan Laurel is walking by the donkey and he is, of course, the one responsible for Oliver’s condition. The previous scene from Way Out West, with a slumbering Ollie (this time dressed) being towed by the mule, is one of the funniest entrances of the duo. For the next ten minutes after that first close-up, I laughed so hard that my belly hurt. Then I gave up – some moments were so funny that you didn’t even feel like laughing anymore, if that makes sense. Sometimes I think people have forgotten what is funny. Todd McEwen, a Laurel & Hardy devotee, who got up at 4.30 in the morning as a kid to watch their films, says it best in his book, Cary Grant’s Suit: Nine Movies That Made Me the Wreck I Am Today: “Disney cartoons aren’t funny. At Disney they wasted all their time and money on capitalism winsomeness.”

A coach ride later, after Stan hitches a ride on a passing coach by doing an impression of Claudette Colbert in It Happened One Night, showing off his leg (more belly-aching laughs), we witness one of the most joyous moments in any film. The two encounter a singing quartet in front of a saloon and they get caught up in the rhythm of a song. Not only is their dance a perfect comic moment, it simply makes you happy. A good comedy should never be underrated.

And who else but Oliver Hardy could get away with pulling the audience back from the illusion of watching a film by casting a glance in our direction whenever Stan Laurel does something foolish? It’s a paradox, but it just works. Wouldn’t any other character, in any film, just drive you crazy? (PG)

 

”Le ballon rouge”, 1956. Films Montsouris

 

Le ballon rouge, 1956
Albert Lamorisse

It is one of the most beloved films of all time, a fantasy film that reminds me about the beauty of childhood. The message is so simple, but the film, almost entirely wordless, is one of the best examples of pure cinema, so artistic, visually powerful and beautifully shot that it won a special place in my heart.

On his way to school one morning, Pascal finds a stray red balloon. Soon a bond is created between the child and his new toy and they become inseparable. Pascal discovers the red balloon has a mind of its own and it follows him everywhere by its own will, waiting for him in the schoolyard, outside his bedroom, following him even inside the church, teasing him to make sure Pascal deserves its friendship. The red balloon becomes the best friend he doesn’t have and they attract the envy of the boys in the neighbouhood, who soon destroy it. The ending of the film is magical, when all the balloons in Paris gather and come to Pascal’s rescue, taking him on a fairy tale balloon ride over the city.

Le ballon rouge will lift up your spirit. Aren’t we all children at heart? In today’s world, we should all fight for children not to lose the innocence and joy of play. (U)

 

“Princess Mononoke”, 1997. Studio Ghibli

 

Princess Mononoke, 1997
Hayao Miyazaki

It’s a story about a prince, Ashitaka, inflicted with a deadly curse by a boar creature when the boy kills it to defend his village. His fate is sealed, the village elders tell him, but he decides to leave and search for the place where the boar came from and the reason for its rage and hatred against people. On his way, he meets San, who calls herself Princess Mononoke, a human raised in the forest by the wolf goddess Moro. San’s plan is to kill local industrialist Lady Eboshi, who has destroyed the animal habitat while and with the manufacturing of iron and guns. It was a gun shot that had transformed the boar, himself an animal god, into an evil creature. And the moment I realised that, the brilliance of the entire film dawned on me.

Inspired by the Muromachi period (1336-1573), which saw the introduction of firearms to feudal Japan, the film is a work of art in the way it conjures a simple natural world where animal gods and tree spirits roam the earth, until they start to be threatened by humanity’s technological progress and cruelty. But another amazing thing about the film is that humans are not explicitly categorised in bad and evil. Each character is flawed, and yet the writer-director does not pass judgment on them. Everything seems to exist at the confluence of tragic and magical, of shadow and light, of good and evil – I smiled when, after we realise what Lady Eboshi is doing in her village, making firearms in order to take over the surrounding natural world, it is revealed to us that she has liberated prostitutes from brothels to come and work for her and made a safe home for the lepers, too. I love how the film refuses to conform to a simplistic, black and white view on human nature, and how it avoids sentimentality and a romanticised ending.

The film is filled with such richness and complexity that can reach children in this seemingly simple way – it may be simple enough for them to enjoy, but I think that, even with children of five, it sinks deeper than that. By the contrasting nature of each character, of nature vs civilization, children are shown, even if they don’t comprehend the dimension of it all, the strengths and weaknesses inherent in human nature and instills in them moral behaviour and they are provided with a moral code on which to start to develop their own lives. But that sense of bewilderment and surprise prevails at all times and that’s the film’s secret – when, at the end, after disaster occurs in the natural world and a single small tree spirit appears suddenly, that’s a moment of pure joy and hope. Earlier in the film, tens, and then hundreds, of small tree spirits had sprung one after another in a frame, and that was a joyous and hilarious moment – what a wonderful way Miyazaki has to speak with children at just the right moments. (PG)

 

“The Sandlot”, 1993. 20th Century Fox

 

The Sandlot, 1993
David Mickey Evans

A small American town in the 1960s, during the summertime. A group of young boys are the sandlot team. All they want to do is play baseball, during the long hot days of summer, when everything seems to stand still, except for one thing that’s constantly on their mind: play baseball. But it’s not about big games, making into the school team and so on. They play ball because they love the game and because they just want to hang out together. It’s not about winning and losing. This is not a film about success, the manic preoccupation of parents today. It allows kids to just be kids and have a childhood, and create a world of their own, with their own rules and dreams and fears they find a way to face, and make memories that will carry them through life. In the course of a summertime afternoon, everything can change, and you can make friends for life. That’s the magic of childhood and the magic of summer. (PG)

 

“Les vacances de Monsieur Hulot”, 1953. Discina Film, Cady Films

 

Les vacances de Monsieur Hulot, 1953
Jacques Tati

For this one, I would like to quote the great late artist Tony Stella. I am forever grateful for the couple of conversations I had with Tony throughout the years and his great generosity in letting us all on his well of knowledge through his work. “From the opening notes of Alain Romans’ score, I am immediately transported to a blissful childhood nostalgia. Summer, Sun, Sea and Tati’s timeless observation of the human character. In 1953, it was Tati’s second film and the first introduction of “Monsieur Hulot” – also my first Tati film. It is forever linked to the time it was shown to me by my Parents – laughing together recognising others and ourselves on summer vacation – rushing to the wrong platform mislead by the unintelligible station information. The world of Monsieur Hulot was still visible in my childhood; I am afraid it is now gone forever, but, because of his genius, I’ve become a Monsieur Hulot myself refusing to let go – always trying to put the fallen brick back on the crumbled wall… I am forever indebted to Jacques Tati and Pierre Étaix whose posters and illustrations shaped my work even beyond the film.” (U)

 

“Tout en haut du monde”, 2015. Sacrebleu Productions, Maybe Movies

 

Tout en haut du monde (Long Way North), 2015
Rémi Chayé

“I think the style of Long Way North is a way to look at reality through light, shapes, and colours, evoking emotion and tickling the imagination. To me, drawing is about interpreting reality – it’s a way to look at a chair, to make the spectator interpret that chair in a way that says something,” director Rémi Chayé said in an interview with Cartoon Brew after the film’s release. “One thing I noticed that was strange to the Americans is our frequent use of holds. In American animation, something has to move all the time. Europeans are closer to Japanese animation in the way that we make greater use of silence. Personally, I very much enjoy those type of Japanese films where nothing happens except drinking tea.” Tout en haut du monde tells the story of Sasha, an aristocrat Russian girl, who, in 1882, goes on an journey to the North Pole to find out what happened to her explorer grandfather who had left on an expedition and never returned. With an animation and composition that are simple and captivating and very appealing aesthetically, and its storytelling quality, the film captures our sense of adventure. (PG)

 

“The Karate Kid”, 1984. Columbia Pictures

 

The Karate Kid, 1984
John G. Avildsen

This is a wonderful, heart-warming story about the friendship between Daniel (Ralph Macchio), a New Jersey kid who moves to Los Angeles with his mom, and Miyagi (Pat Morita), an elderly Japanese janitor who works in their building. Miyagi is also a karate master and agrees to take Daniel, who has trouble at school with the Cobra Kai gang, as his student. I have to admit that my favourite part of the film is Mr. Miyagi’s unconventional training, as he has Daniel washing his car, painting the fence and house, sanding the floor, which ultimately leads to Daniel’s understanding that Mr. Miyagi has trained him karate without him even realising it. Pat Morita gives life to a completely original character, and Daniel and Miyagi form one of the most best friendships on screen. “He taught him that the secret to karate lies in the mind and heart. Not in the hands.” (12A)

 

“Belle et Sébastien”, 2013. Radar Films, Gaumont

 

Belle et Sébastien, 2013
Nicolas Vanier

“A true ode to nature, it’s the story of an encounter between a lonely child and a wild dog. The story of Sébastien who tames Belle. The tale of a little boy searching for his mother, an old man searching for his past, a resistance fighter searching for love, a young woman in search of adventure, and a German lieutenant seeking forgiveness.” It’s the most beautiful description of the film, courtesy of director Nicolas Vanier. (PG)

 

“E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial”, 1982. Universal Pictures, Amblin Entertainment

 

E.T., 1982
Steven Spielberg

I think it is marvelous how, to this day, adults can still identify with E.T. and Elliot, experiencing the children’s emotions in their relationship with their friend from outer space. The childlike enthusiasm in us is still intact, and so is our sense of wonder. And the film remains a celebration of friendship and love, regardless of race and culture. It still gives children things to think about, it makes them, and us all, let’s be honest, feel, and enjoy, and dream. “My greatest dream is to one day have this same experience. To see something that neither science nor logic can explain.” – Steven Spielberg
(U)

 

”Flow”, 2024. Dream Well Studio, Sacrebleu Productions

 

Flow, 2024
Gints Zilbalodis

A captivating adventure that shows us again that cinema is image, not words. (U)

 

”The General”, 1926. Buster Keaton Productions

 

The General, 1926
Buster Keaton

„A good comedy can be written on a postcard.” – Buster Keaton

The silence of the images in Buster Keaton’s brilliant comedies frees the comic imagination. With Buster, more than with any other silent filmmaker, it couldn’t be more fascinating to watch a silent film, because the images will simply guide you. So, yes, I do believe that silent films can have an audience in the 21st century. (U)

 

”The Red Turtle”, 2016. Prima Linea Productions, Why Not Productions, Wild Bunch

 

The Red Turtle (2016)
Michael Dudok de Wit

This film, about a man who is shipwrecked on a desert island and encounters a red turtle that changes his life, runs for 1 hour and 20 minutes. Only near the very end, my son, who was six when he watched it, observed very casually: “This film is silent.” The idea is that the beautiful animation carries this fantasy story flawlessly. Produced by Toshio Suzuki, the Studio Ghibli producer, The Red Turtle is the studio’s first film made by a non-Japanese director. What is special about this film is that it makes great use of the medium, cinema, and it demands that you pay attention to what is happening, to the surroundings, to the island’s personality, without the need to know much about the characters or the world outside the island. It has mystery and humour – it’s the little crabs that provide the funny element, which nicely balance the fantastical side of the story. I just love films that know how to grab children’s attention gently. (PG)

 

”Singin’ in the Rain”, 1952. MGM, Lowe’s

 

Singin’ in the Rain, 1952
Gene Kelly

When I first watched Singin’ in the Rain, I couldn’t stop marvelling at the all-singing, all-dancing Kelly, and at how the musical numbers were so seamlessly integrated into the plot, and such a good story it was, too. Absolute joy! Absolute genius! Now I have rewatched it with my son and we still marveled, our eyes glued to the screen, at how an actor, singer, director, dance choreographer, could also be so masculine and an athlete of that caliber. (U)

 

”Raiders of the Lost Ark”, 1981. Paramount Pictures, Lucasfilm

 

The Raiders of the Lost Ark, 1981
Steven Spielberg

In 1981, Indiana Jones took the world on his first and greatest adventure on screen. To this day, the film imagined by Steven Spielberg and George Lucas has remained, for many, the quintessential adventure movie. An exercise in pure cinematic style, Raiders of the Lost Ark has every bit of action held together by an irresistible mixture of boyish spirit and a romance with classic cinema. Drawn from forgotten Saturday matinee serials of the 30s, comics, and Howard Hawks films, Steven Spielberg created the kind of adventure he would have loved as a kid. Throughout his career, Hawks, too, had wanted “to merge his fictional ideals with his real life, a boy’s fantasy being played out every day”, as Todd McCarthy analyses in his book, Howard Hawks: The Grey Fox of Hollywood, something he always sought for in his adventure films. And what Spielberg did with Indiana Jones was hold the visual reins and create a world that the audience did not know or only dreamed of and thrust them into it and into a feeling of adventure and fantasy. The legend still looms large. (12A)

 

”The Secret Garden”, 1993. Warner Brothers, American Zoetrope

 

The Secret Garden, 1993
Agnieszka Holland

After young Mary is orphaned by an earthquake in India, she is sent back to England to live in her uncle’s castle. Soon, she discovers some dark secrets emerging from the castle wrapped in fog, but a beautiful garden, too, and sets out to explore its own secrets. Directed by Agnieszka Holland and adapted from Frances Hodgson Burnett’s book by the same name, The Secret Garden has both beauty and darkness in it, which I think is enriching for a child and everyone watching. And, most of all, I love the character of Mary Lennox (played with such feeling by Kate Maberly), how genuine she is. Rarely is a child depicted on screen as innately having both good parts and bad parts (which I think is very true with every child, as with every individual) and it’s beautiful how the story, and the film, charters this character, not by taming her, but by letting her shine in her own time. (U)

 

”A Quiet Place”, 2018. Paramount Pictures, Platinum Dunes, Sunday Night

 

A Quiet Place, 2018
John Krasinski

Set in a post-apocalyptic wasteland, where sightless alien creatures hunt their prey on even the faintest sound, this is a world in which only very few and the most quiet and careful humans survive. There is not much that can be invented in cinema anymore, but that concept felt new and thrilling in A Quiet Place. Silence never sounded so terrifying. Emily Blunt and her real life husband, John Krasinski, who also directed, play a loving couple with young kids. They have to speak in sign language and walk with bare feet and even the vaguest sound can mean almost instant death. It’s clever, nerve-shredding and beautifully executed, and I kept telling myself that this can’t be so good until the end. But it absolutely is. And it also feels like a great yet trying adventure of this wonderful family who only have each other. This is a film that I love so much that I have kept postponing watching A Quiet Place: Part II (and now Part III is about to be released), and I have to admit that I still wish they never made a second part. But I eventually did watch it. The element of new is gone, which was to be expected, but the film is good, it keeps the suspense, the completely silent scenes are unbelievable, and Regan, the Abbots’ eldest daughter, played by Millicent Simmonds, beautifully leads the story and her family. (15)

 

”Stand by Me”, 1986. Columbia Pictures

 

Stand by Me, 1986
Rob Reiner

“I never had any friends later on like the one I had when I was 12. Jesus, does anyone?” A group of four friends, lead by Chris (River Phoenix) spend the summer of 1959 doing pretty much nothing but hang out, until they find out about a dead body (the film is based on Stephen King’s book The Body) and set off on a long walk to find it. This is one of the most poetic films about friendship. There is wonderful sense of place in Stand by Me (childhood summers are so closely knit into the place we spent them in, aren’t they?), and an even more beautiful tale of friendship, depicting the games, thoughts, secrets and bonds shared by good friends. Over the years, it’s that tightly-knit friendship that has stayed with me, a window into my own childhood friendships, like something that still exists suspended somewhere in time, where you can return to and be best friends with the rest of the gang. (15)

 

”Une vie de chat”, 2020. Folimage

 

Une vie de chat (A Cat in Paris), 2010
Jean-Loup Felicioli, Alain Gagnol

When everything seems to go in the same direction, and I am especially referring to Disney animated films, when you watch a film like Une vie de chat, you realise how much we have lost, creatively, emotionally, and our need to return to “more sensitive, more humane things”, as directors Alain Gagnol and Jean-Loup Felicioli remarked after their film’s release. With drawings made by hand, on paper, the old way (then scanned and transferred to computer for the finishing touches), the film is not only a celebration of traditional craftsmanship, but a good story about a cat that lives a double life, a pet for little Zoé by day and partner in crime for a burglar who uses the rooftops of Paris as escape routes by night, with a nice thrill of gangster films thrown in the mix. (PG)

 

”Alien”, 1979. 20th Century Fox, Scott Free Productions

 

Alien, 1979
Ridley Scott

What, in my opinion, makes Alien extraordinary is that it belongs to itself, and to cinema. Retaining a trace of the independent spirit of the New Hollywood, as well as an European sensibility, Alien created a world that lived on its own. A world, mainly contrived to the interior of the ship Nostromo, with its empty and immersive corridors and spaces and a feeling of otherness, that I think can be best described as organic. It merges biology and technology in a way it had never been done before, nor since, in sci-fi cinema, investigating how it is to be human in a hostile universe where you encounter other biological and artificial life.

It is not an action film, there are no hierarchies, no gender references, no sentimental dialogue (all paths that, unfortunately, the ordinary sequels subsequently took). None of this matters out there, in the infinite space. There is something bigger than you out there. You simply get the sense of that watching the film. It uniquely conjures up primal emotions, the kind I imagine you would experience if you witnessed the dawn of human existence. That’s my personal relationship with Alien, one of those few films you don’t just experience, but rather inhabit.

 

”The Incredible Journey”, 1963. Walt Disney Productions

 

The incredible journey, 1963
Fletcher Markle

Granted, I watched this film, about three pets, two dogs and a cat, who cross a perilous mountain range to go home, with my son, and that’s part of the reason why I liked it very much. It’s about an exciting and charming adventure that doesn’t have to make perfect sense but catches children’s enthusiasm. (U)

 

”Jaws”, 1975. Universal Pictures, Zanuck/Brown Productions

 

Jaws, 1975
Steven Spielberg

Jaws is a classic. It is also a (the) blockbuster. But a blockbuster in the 1970s meant an entirely different thing than it means today. Most importantly though, it’s a great film. Brilliant and terrifying, Hitchcock-style. Jaws (1975) is plain and simple a great adventure movie and one of the most effective thrillers ever made, the kind that keeps you on the edge of your seat, getting you to identify with the characters and asking yourself what you would do if you were them. It is a story that scares the hell out of you from the very beginning (skillfully using the power of the unseen – it is what you don’t see that scares you the most), which is why, I think, it is perfect to watch on the idle days of summer. (A)

 

”The Kid”, 1921. Charles Chaplin Productions

 

The Kid, 1921
Charlie Chaplin

Chaplin’s silent films will never age. There is such fluidity in the narrative, so much is said with so little, they make you laugh hard, and show you a hint of darkness in the human heart… They can’t be really explained in words, they are simply fascinating to watch. And everyone is moved not just by the humour of The Tramp’s body in motion, but by the weaknesses of the character – a universal language that is not just always in action, but instantly reacts to the surrounding world. It makes you present. (U)

 

”Home Alone”, 1990. 20th Century Fox, Hughes Entertainment

 

Home Alone, 1990
Chris Columbus

The ultimate Christmas film, in the best possible sense. The laughs are the same, no matter how many times I have watched it, and so are the tears that never fail to come out at the sentimental ending (thanks to the wonderful Catherine O’Hara) that, surprisingly, doesn’t bother me. The turtle doves scene in Home Alone 2 is always a reminder to look for the special significance of Christmas each year. (PG)

 

”Back to the Future”, 1985. Universal Pictures, Amblin Entertainment

 

Back to the Future, 1985
Robert Zemeckis

When the stars align, or, more realistically speaking, when the many moving parts that create a film work in perfect harmony, a movie reaches the public’s imagination on a whole new level than the rest and is burnt forever in their collective memory. And sometimes they continue to reach the hearts of the next generation and the next. Back to the Future was one such film. Marty (Michael J. Fox) is a seventeen year old who spends most of his time with Doc (Christopher Lloyd), whose latest homemade invention is a time-travel machine in the shape of a DeLorean car – “If I am going to build a time travel machine, why not make it in style?” – that accidentally sends Marty 30 years back in time, back to his hometown when his parents were themselves teenagers and had barely met. And so he interferes with the course of history ad his whole existence is put into question.

“Back to the Future is a comedy-adventure-science-speculation-coming-of-age-rock-and-roll-timetravel-period-film,” director Robert Zemeckis told Films and Filmmaking. It’s the blend of all those things that appealed to the imagination of moviegoers generations apart. It is a film that is witty in portraying two epochs and two generations with humorous, intelligent and ironic references to popular culture and American history and with a fantastic soundtrack that goes from the edgy 80s music (Huey Lewis and the News, Eric Clapton, Phil Collins, Fleetwood Mac) back to the early classic rock of Etta James, Johnny Otis, Chuck Berry. The contrast between the 1950s and the 1980s provides a good deal of humour for the film’s main characters, as Bob Gale explains, “I think one of the great time travel fantasies is the idea of going back and being superior because you have prior knowledge in those areas.” (PG)

 

“Ratatouille”, 2007. Pixar

 

Ratatouille, 2007
Brad Bird

One of the things I love the most about this beautiful film is that it has taught me a universal truth when I watched it on repeat with my son (it was his first favourite film, until he saw Jurassic Park): children will always root for animal characters more than for any other character. (U)

 

“Star Wars”, 1977. Lucasfilm, 20th Century Fox

 

Star Wars, 1977
George Lucas

“I wanted to make a film for kids, something that would present them with a kind of elementary morality. Because nowadays nobody bothers to tell those kids, ‘Hey, this is right and this is wrong.’” This is a film that can simply connect with every age group. I did not grow up watching Star Wars. In fact, I watched them for the first time with my son, usually over summer holidays, and I came to appreciate them more than I had expected, from the sheer enthusiasm put into their making and the way in which George Lucas clearly embraced the form of this specific medium of telling stories, to the escapism so beautifully crafted. (U)

 

”Spirited Away”, 2001. Studio Ghibli

 

Spirited Away, 2001
Hayao Miyazaki

When Chihiro and her parents take a wrong turn on their way to their new home, they stop to look around and go through a tunnel at the end of which they reach a strange world, a seemingly deserted themed park. When night falls, the park becomes a world populated by spirits and witches, dust balls and a river creature whose body has absorbed decades of pollution – again, it’s amazing on how many levels Miyazaki’s stories work. Chihiro has to work at a bath house so that she, with the help of a young boy who himself had long ago entered this world and now can not escape, can save her parents who have been transformed into pigs.

Once again, Hayao Miyazaki’s fantastic world is unlike anything done before, free from typical fairy tale heroes and anti-heroes. Miyazaki’s characters are driven by their own logic. Good characters can become evil just by a change of scenery, can take the shape of human, animal or river spirit, a child enters a strange world and anything can happen. It’s simply this free flow of events and transformations and beings that just happen, that just are. And the beauty of it all is that they take you along for the ride. And you just have to do what children do: be astonished! (PG)

 

”Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone ”, 2001. Warner Brothers

 

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, 2001
Chris Columbus

There are 8 films in the Harry Potter franchise, but I am putting down the first one, because it was Chris Columbus who unlocked the magic of the Harry Potter world to us all. He also directed the second film, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets and returned as a producer for the third, directed by Alfonso Cuaron, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (one of my favourites), and it feels like he was the one who took us on this fantastic journey that gets darker and darker with each film. To quote Ethan Hawke during a Q&A that I took part in some years ago, “if it [Hogwarts] really existed, I wish I were cool enough to go there”. (PG)

 

”The Birds”, 1963. Alfred J. Hitchcock Productions, Universal Pictures

 

The Birds, 1963
Alfred Hitchcock

In the Bodega Bay schoolyard, crows are flocking one by one behind Melanie Daniels (Tippi Hedren), who is waiting outside for the children to finish class. There is a long, silent gathering behind the protagonist, no apparent explanation of what attracts them there. But when Melanie eventually turns around, after catching the sight of a bird approaching in flight, the climbing frame is jammed with crows. That scene alone is probably more surprising and shocking than the actual attack upon the children that follows or any other scene in the film, and I think it is brilliant in showing even children a thing or two about cinema.

 

”School of Rock”, 2003. Paramount Pictures

 

School of Rock, 2003
Mike White

Jack Black teaches children rock in school. Yes, rock, good music, should be taught in schools. This film is downright funny and it brings me joy to see how music brings children, parents and teachers together. (PG)

 

”Edward Scissorhands”, 1990. 20th Century Fox, Tim Burton Productions

 

Edward Scissorhands, 1990
Tim Burton

Edward is a lost soul. He is an unfinished artificial humanoid, with scissors instead of hands, because his inventor died before he had the chance to finish him. It is a timeless fairytale, whimsical and profoundly moving. It is about the sadness of being misperceived, and Johnny Depp, with his sensitive performance and eyes that can say things without speaking, plays him to perfection. As we follow him from his solitary gothic world to the pastel-coloured, stylised suburbia neighbourhood among people, we root for this innocent and lonely outsider desperate to fit in, but realising, before he does, how much more special it is to be different, but how painful it is, too, to discover that the most affectionate and the gentlest touch of his scissorhands can make others suffer. (12)

 

”Finding Nemo”, 2003. Pixar, Walt Disney

 

Finding Nemo, 2003
Andrew Stanton

I love how Finding Nemo succeeds in engaging children in the story from the get-go, taking them on this colourful, wondrous and action-driven adventure. But the most beautiful part is that the best character is the father – we need more such father-figure characters, don’t you agree?(U)
 

”Mrs. Doubtfire”, 1993. 20th Century Fox

 

Mrs. Doubtfire, 1993
Chris Columbus

This is one of those rare movies that make you feel sadness now and one minute later make you laugh out loud, and it does it with genuine warmth and perfect comedic timing, led by the incredible acting force that was Robin Williams, with his instinctive talent for slapstick and physical comedy, but also with the biggest heart of the most loving father – I don’t think I have ever seen a father character more lost than when he loses custody of his children after divorce. Children love the funny parts, but, between the laughs, they also understand that life gets complicated. Yet the underline is that we must believe that things will work out in the end. (12)

 

”Matilda”, 1996. TriStar Pictures

 

Matilda, 1996
Danny DeVito

One of the best adaptation of a Roald Dahl book. Because I do think that it’s important to expose children to Dahl’s universe. As Wes Anderson told Matt Zoller Seitz in their book, “Roald Dahl really did have a knack for seeing from a child’s point of view. The details he focuses on and vividly describes are just the ones that might most fully and directly capture a child’s attention and inspire a child’s imagination. Or it might just be that his books show a true interest in the things that make children laugh and frighten them. He never particularly held himself back from the extremely scary or disgusting things. He had such a broad imagination and would turn some real-life inspiration into something fabulous. He also had this tremendous facility with inventing characters, and he could just weave a plot that was real.” (PG)

 

”Fantastic Mr. Fox”, 2009. 20th Century Fox, Indian Paintbrush

 

Fantastic Mr. Fox, 2009
Wes Anderson

This stop-motion cartoon about a family of chicken-stealing foxes and the corporate farmers trying to snuff them out is truly my favourite Roald Dahl adaptation. Wes Anderson’s incomparable cinematic style and themes and the kind of universe he creates to surround his characters with are all there and the best part is that children, too, can understand them and enjoy. (PG)

 

”The Lion King”, 1994. Walt Disney

 

The Lion King, 1994
Roger Allers and Rob Minkoff

Having such a wonderful bad character in Scar, voiced by Jeremy Irons, makes it so much more interesting. (U)

 

”Close Encounters of the Third Kind”, 1977. Julia Phillips and Michael Phillips Productions, EMI Films

 

Close Encounters of the Third Kind, 1977
Steven Spielberg

During a night-time procedure, electrical engineer Roy Neary (Richard Dreyfuss) has a strange experience: he sees aliens. But no one believes him. He is fired from the company, everybody makes fun of him and he is misunderstood even by his family. What he doesn’t know is that his encounter is part of a strange phenomena that have been occurring around the world. This is a more serious, more complex, more mature sci-fi narration than E.T. and the great thing is that children as small as 8 years old love serious, thought-provoking sci-fi questions and stories. (A)

 

”The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring”, 2001. New Line Cinema

 

The Lord of the Rings, 2001, 2002 & 2003
Peter Jackson

Every film is a world in itself, but few take you on such an amazing journey like The Lord of the Rings trilogy. And for children, entering this world of fantasy will work up their imagination and sense of curiosity just like a book does, but enhanced by the visual spectacle. (PG)

 

”Wall-E”, 2008. Pixar, Walt Disney

 

Wall-E, 2008
Andrew Stanton

Wall-E has a great sci-fi idea at the core and it already felt timeless when it came out. Alien, Star Wars, Blade Runner, Silent Running, they all had something of their own that made them stand alone. Wall-E does that, too. In the 29th century, humans have long left Earth for life in outer space. Wall-E, a trash-compacting robot, was left behind to clean up a pollution-swallowed planet. When he meets Eve, another robot sent to Earth to detect plant life, they embark on a space journey to bring humans, and humanity, black to Earth. The film was made almost two decades ago, but it saw into a future that has almost become reality, maybe not the part about the people living in outer space, but certainly the part about the people losing touch with reality in a troubled millennium. (U)

 

SHORT FILMS

A word on short films.

One makes you laugh with tears, another one combines humour with the realities of life teaching children through a funny, light touch that prepares them for the world. Another one is incredibly prescient in regards to the man of the modern age and the ever widening gap between nature and people, and yet another one is about finding the courage to face your biggest fears. And so on. I can honestly say that nowadays I often find in short films the creativity and freedom of artistic expression that feature films so rampantly lack lately. French short film, in particular, has the courage and brilliance to touch our imagination, hearts and minds without one single word. People, the human behaviour (and children are the best example), react more to what they see than to what they hear. Which is why we should be more selective with what we watch.

 

”Un Lynx dans la ville”, 2019. Folimage

 

Un lynx dans la ville (A Lynx in the Town), 2019
Nina Bisiarina

Leaving his home forest, a lynx goes into a town nearby and he starts to explore it. He finds it curious and amusing until the inhabitants find him under the snow in the morning.

 

”La chasse”, 2017. France

 

La chasse (The Hunt), 2017
Alexey Alekseev

A nearsighted city hunter takes a rabbit with him instead of his dog when he goes hunting. In the vein of the great French comedies, this is a film that makes you laugh with tears.

 

”Parapluies”, 2020. Bigaro Films, Moukda Production

 

Parapluies (Umbrellas), 2020
José Prats, Álvaro Robles

In a remote village where the rain never stops, six-year-old Kyna spends her days playing happily protected under her father’s umbrella beard. One day her dog, Nana, disappears, and, to find her, Kyna has to face her biggest fear: the rain.

 

”Kiki la plume”, 2020. Prototypes Productions

 

Kiki la plume (Kiki the Feather), 2020
Julie Rembauville, Nicolas Bianco-Levrin

Kiki the canary lives in captivity in a cage, where he is fed by an old lady. He dreams of flying with the birds outside. One day, when the door of the cage remains ajar, he escapes. Outdoors, he must learn how to fly and he discovers the good and bad that comes with being a free bird. It teaches us all about freedom.

 

”Piper”, 2016. Pixar

 

Piper, 2016

Alan Barillo

The short film is a space for infinite freedom, as filmmaker Nicolas Bianco-Levrin said in our interview. Life is very simple once you overcome your fears and become self-sufficient. This short film about a little sandpiper offers an invaluable life lesson in just 6 minutes, with no words, and it does it with an incredible sense of humour, too. And it made both my son and me happy when we watched it.
 (U)

 

”Far from the Tree”, 2021. Walt Disney

 

Far from the Tree, 2021

Natalie Nourigat

Far from the Tree is another short that takes place in the animal world. Isn’t it interesting how easily viewers of all ages relate to animal characters? Another one of my interviewees, children’s book author and illustrator Marianne Dubuc had a straightforward and logical explanation for it: it is easier to have more readers identify with a cat than with a human being who looks different from you. “The freedom of interpretation that is so important to me can be helped with animal characters, since they give a broader answer to culture, identity, etc,” she said. Returning to Far from the Tree, we are again served a life experience that is however different in approach. Darker, allowing difficult questions about the real world, and, yes, about the dangers of life, be answered sensitively. (PG)

 

Posted by classiq in Film | | Comments Off on A library of children’s films

June newsletter: Sunrise, Good Night Sea Stories, and Rafa

Photos: Classiq Journal (left), Daniel Espírito Santo for
“I Love the Seaside surf & travel guide to France, Spain and Portugal” (right)

 
 

“There are dreams one doesn’t dare to confess
even to oneself. Dreams to be nurtured and guarded
deep in a remote corner of the mind,
carefully keeping them from surfacing,
because their magnitude could spread and
consume anyone who consciously pursued them”

William’s Sanskrit Dream (Good Night Sea Stories)

 
 

Photos: Marie-Therese Pfisterer for “I Love the Seaside surf & travel guide to Morrocco” (left), Classiq Journal (right)

 

Sunrise, 1927
F.W. Murnau

Murnau was one of the great natural visual artists in cinema. His Sunrise will never be old-fashioned. Made in the twilight of the silent era, it is deceptively simple, yet its own brilliance is inimitable, presenting a story of love in a way that makes specific use of the medium of film, while its sound effects pushed silent cinema one step closer to the talkie era. With Sunrise, Murnau showed filmmakers what they could do with this art form.

 

Rafa, 2026
Zach Heinzerling

I have said it before. Rafa Nadal will remain my favourite tennis player. My admiration for Nadal, however, goes beyond his extraordinary achievements on the tennis court, although I lived every match I saw him play (including most of the 116 Roland Garros matches). I admire his hard-work and determination, his resilience and mental strength, his fair play, his modesty, kindness, courtesy and shyness, his down-to-earthness, the respect he has for his family, for his roots, and for his fans. He’s a beautiful human being! And in the extraordinary and intimate four-part documentary series RAFA, he opens up in a way I wouldn’t have thought he ever would and we are granted access into his life and into what it took for him to become the greatest champion the world has seen. He’s always been his own toughest competitor.

 

Lolita, 1962
Stanley Kubrick

“How did they ever make a movie of Lolita?”, one of the posters for Stanley Kubrick’s Lolita proclaimed. Indeed. When Lolita was first published, some critics thought it too explicit in dealing with sexual matters. As Gene D. Phillips notes in the book The Stanley Kubrick Archives, Nabokov wrote to Graham Greene at the time, commenting on the controversy surrounding the book: “My poor Lolita is having a rough time. The pity is that, if I had made her a boy, philistines might not have flinched.” Still, the book found champions, too, and it was in fact Greene who stirred up serious interest in the book when he gave it a rave review in the London Times. Over the years, Nabokov’s novel has been recognized as the elegantly written, superb piece of fiction that it is. And, most of all, in Kubrick’s own words, “Nabokov was brilliant in withholding any indication of the author’s approval of the relationship”, because it is at the very ending of the book that Humbert’s genuine and selfless love he has for Lolita is revealed.

When Kubrick acquired the rights for the film, there was much speculation in the press as to how he would approach the controversial story. Nabokov’s novel “fairly begged to be committed to cinema”, remarks Gene D. Phillips, since he makes several references in this regard in the book. “If I have my way … the audience will start by being repelled by this ‘creep’ who seduces a not-so-innocent child, but, gradually, as they realize he really loves the girl, they’ll find things aren’t quite as simple as they seemed, and they won’t be so ready to pass immediate moral judgment. I consider that a moral theme,” said Kubrick in an interview with Eugene Archer in The New York Times. “Lolita is a tragedy… Furthermore, this is at heart a novel of redemption. It is about a lust that matures, under fire, to love,” asserted Nabokov.

When Nabokov finally saw Lolita at a private screening, he thought that it was a first rate film and admitted that Kubrick’s inventions were “appropriate and delightful”, that the killing of Quilty “is a masterpiece, and so is the death of Charlotte Haze”. But, ultimately, it is Peter Sellers who gives Lolita, the film, its vitality. Sellers’ Quilty has far greater presence on the screen than in the book – “It was apparent that just beneath the surface of the story was this strong secondary narrative thread possible,” Kubrick declared in an interview with Terry Southern, talking about his Quilty. This is exactly what helps achieve a narrative of mystery through the duration of the entire movie, and I can see why Kubrick regarded Hitchcock as one of the most influential filmmakers for him. Kubrick’s sardonic wit and dry humour, his penchant for combining farce and terror, vision and technique ensure that the film has its own story to tell.

 

Photos: Classiq Journal (left), “Good Night Sea Stories” (right)

 

Reading

As a long-time reader of Sirene magazine, I am thrilled to carry their new book, Good Night Sea Stories in my shop.

Sirene is a community of free spirits. The ocean outside. The ocean inside. It’s about wilderness in all its majesty and about the human side of the ocean. It’s a bridge between people and the sea. And it’s storytelling, visual and written, at its best.

The book Good Night Sea Stories gathers eighteen short stories with the sea as a companion and friend. They talk of the joy of setting sail again on a boat you built yourself; of the submerged beauty of the Phoenician civilization along the Lebanese coast; and the mesmerizing discovery of the music of storms.

Eighteen glimpses into life at sea, including captains, swimmers, surfers, as well as artists, writers, and musicians.

This book is also a borderland, a space suspended between that liminal time when wakefulness is ending and sleep has yet to begin. It’s the magical time when stories to read become dreams.

The I Love the Seaside books are the most authentic, laidback and cool travel and surf guides, and so much more than that. They gather intel from across the coastlines of Europe, Chile and North Africa into beautiful books that are a world in themselves. Backdrop stories about the surf culture in the region, short interviews with interesting local people, knowledge about local food, culture, makers and menders, little gems found on site, true and tried over the years. Places that may not be picture-perfect or where they may not speak English, but where you will experience something real. And having it on paper offers you an enhanced sense of place, awaiting for notes to be penned on the side and revisited as time passes, its pages a little more creased after each time we open it.

And I am happy that three I Love the Seaside books (France, Spain & Portugal, Morrocco, and Chile) have found a home in my shop, too.

 

Listening

The soundtrack: North by Northwest

 

The podcast: The Rest is Entertainment episode with Steven Spielberg. The wander is still there.

 

The album: Fear Life for a Lifetime, Stone

 

Making

Argentinian clothing brand Dacuña was born from a simple yet profound idea: to create from feeling. To observe the landscape we inhabit, the nature that surrounds us, to revisit history, to touch the fabric.

“We believe in the art of handcrafting, in time, in textures, in the processes that teach us. We are driven by challenges, the unknown, what we don’t yet know how to do but want to learn. To create something meaningful, something that resonates within us, that takes us a little further, knowing that returning home is always the right place. That is the essence of Dacuña.”

 

Exploring

Il Cinema Ritrovato festival at a special 40th anniversary. “Year after year, Piazza Maggiore” (the main Bolognese venue for the festival) “confirms its reputation as one of the most beautiful cinemas in the world for cinephiles (a category without nationality). It is a space of both monumental grandeur and intimate charm, and a defining expression of the Italian Renaissance. Each evening of Il Cinema Ritrovato is unique, thanks to the magical union of masterpieces from the history of cinema, the unforgettable setting, the quality of the introductions, and an audience that carries the memory of this experience long afterwards – especially silent films accompanied by live musical performances. The festival runs June 20 – 28.
 

The regulars

The interviews, newsletters and podcasts I turn to every week and/or every month because they are that good. Soundtracking, with Edith Bowman. Ruthie’s Table 4 with Ruth Rogers. Fashion Neurosis, with Bella Freud. My New Roots monthly newsletter. Craig Mod’s newsletters: Roden and Ridgeline. Racquet’s Rennae Stubbs tennis podcast. Gone to Timbuktu with Sophy Roberts. Sirene Journal, Racquet, Waves & Woods, and Legénde in print.

 
 

“With surfing, you have to surrender to
natural laws, a bit like in real life.”

Kaspar Hamminga, ILtS surf & travel guide to Morrocco

 
 

 

Posted by classiq in Books, Culture, Film, Newsletter, Shop | | Comments Off on June newsletter: Sunrise, Good Night Sea Stories, and Rafa

“Music is more than just audio content, it remains a physical, emotional and visual experience”: In conversation with We Are Rewind

We Are Rewind “Serge” cassette player

 

We have the world’s song library at our fingertips today, and yet, we are not enriched but rather engulfed by it all. In the age of algorithm-driven playlists and AI generated music, We Are Rewind has brought back the cassette player, and the world, including, promisingly, the young generations, is fully embracing what is ultimately a quintessential (counter)cultural experience. Because even compared to listening to a vinyl, listening to a cassette tape is a more personal, emotionally resonant experience. Somehow music becomes more hearable, seeable, intentional and touchable, not just moments but extended living experiences.

The medium becomes just as important as the music. We choose the music that reflects our mood, our tastes, music that shows that we care to be authentic. We Are Rewind is bringing back the real connection with music, connection that leaves a mark and that means genuine engagement, because it’s why we make music in the first place.

With We Are Rewind, co-founders Romain Boudruche and Matthieu Mazières pursued a dream by rethinking the obvious, being bold and playful, and building on something much bigger than a great product – staying focused on the change that they want to create and humanizing music again. Each of their distinctive cassette players, thanks to a brilliantly crafted product image that blends music culture, timeless design and a retro yet forever young spirit, has taken a life of its own. There is Elvis, and Kurt, and Keith, and Edith… We finally seem to be on the right track again.

In our interview, Romain and I talk about how they designed a product that is iconic, simple and instantly recognisable, about the underground culture of the cassette tape, how growing up in the digital era has made younger generations nostalgic for a time they never knew, about how a good mixtape should feel like, about the good and the bad of technology in music, and about Kate Bush and Stranger Things as a the pivotal moment in the public’s collective mind and music industry.

 

We Are Rewind “Serge” cassette player

 

How long before starting We Are Rewind did you realise there is a market for cassette players?

We realised there was a market for cassette players almost immediately after reading an article highlighting the growing resurgence of cassettes. It instantly made sense to us: if people were rediscovering cassette tapes, they would eventually need high-quality players to listen to them again. That’s really how the idea for We Are Rewind was born.

 

And how did We Are Rewind come about? Because you had to build everything from scratch, didn’t you, turning to the past and stacking skills to create something new.

It has been a real uphill battle. At first, we wanted to manufacture everything in France, but we quickly realised that the only viable option was to produce in China. We tried, and are still trying, to help revive certain production capabilities and factories, but for now it’s almost impossible. So we had to work with the last remaining manufacturer still producing cassette mechanisms and build from there, pushing the technology as far as possible. To achieve that, we relied on engineers with more than 35 years of experience in analog electronics and cassette technology. In many ways, We Are Rewind was built by combining old expertise with a modern vision.

 
 

“In many ways, We Are Rewind was built
by combining old expertise with a modern vision.”

 
 

The design was the first thing that caught my attention when I discovered We Are Rewind. I remember thinking “This is so much cooler than the Walkman ever was”. How did you arrive at this particular design, a modern classic?

Our designer actually came to us with three very different concepts in the early stages of the project, and the version featuring the circular window immediately stood out to us. It felt iconic, simple, and instantly recognisable.

For this design, he drew inspiration from Dieter Rams’ philosophy of “less, but better.” We wanted the product to feel minimalist and timeless rather than overly retro or gimmicky.

As for the colours, our goal was to create a subtle connection to the 1980s and particularly to Sony’s very first Walkman, the TPS-L2. That’s why our artistic director developed this very distinctive deep orange alongside the recognizable blue-grey tones, giving the product a strong visual identity while still feeling modern.

 

 
 

“It felt iconic, simple, and instantly recognizable.
We wanted the product to feel minimalist and timeless
rather than overly retro or gimmicky.”

 
 

 

We Are Rewind “Kurt” cassette player

 

Technology has changed the way many of us listen to music, but analogue formats are coming back with a vengeance, gaining more and more terrain. The vinyl is back, and now the cassette is back. It’s more than a cultural movement, it’s more like a counter-cultural movement, it’s what usually breaks free and moves things forward. How does it feel to be part of that?

It feels amazing to be part of this movement. We are music lovers ourselves, and we completely relate to the idea that everything moves too fast today. Going back to vinyl and cassette is a way of slowing things down and reconnecting with the moment in a more intentional way. There’s also a big difference between having access to ten million songs and actually owning a collection of albums. A vinyl or cassette collection is something personal and tangible. It reflects your taste, your memories, and your relationship with music. It turns listening into a real experience again, rather than just background consumption.

 

Romain and Matthieu, when did your passion for music start? What does music mean to you?

As far back as we can remember, music has always been part of our lives. In high school, it was probably the most important thing outside of our studies. We were hit hard by bands like The Strokes and Arctic Monkeys as we were coming out of adolescence, and after that, no party, no weekend, not even an afternoon would happen without music playing somewhere. We lost count of how many times we told ourselves we should start a rock band. Today, being able to attend festivals and connect with artists we genuinely admire through this project feels surreal. In many ways, it’s a dream come true.

 
 

“A cassette collection turns listening into a real
experience again, rather than just background consumption.”

 
 

Concerts and festivals have always brought people together (except for the difficult years of the pandemic), but what I believe is now happening, what the big change is, is that people want the physical experience to last as long as possible, and here is where the cassette player comes in, because it’s much easier to live an experience – music – by listening to a portable player than by listening to a vinyl. You are simply bringing fans closer to music, anytime, anywhere. Is there a group of public that you were surprised that caught on the cassette player more than you had expected?

Yes, I completely agree with that perspective. What surprised us the most was actually the younger generation. Initially, we expected our audience to be mostly people between 35 and 70 years old. People who had grown up with cassettes and would feel nostalgic about them.

But in reality, many of our customers are much younger and never experienced that era at all. In a way, growing up in a fully digital world has made them nostalgic for a time they never knew. They are increasingly looking for something more tangible, more physical, and more intentional in their relationship with music.

And interestingly, the cassette has become something almost more original and fashionable again than vinyl, simply because vinyl is now everywhere. Cassettes still feel a bit unexpected, more personal, and somehow more underground, which makes them especially attractive to younger audiences today.

 

We Are Rewind “Amy” (left) and “Elvis” (right) special edition cassette players

 
 

“What surprised us the most was actually the younger generation.
In a way, growing up in a fully digital world has made them
nostalgic for a time they never knew.”

 
 

We Are Rewind “Curtis” blaster

 

That’s wonderful to hear. I always notice in record stores how teenagers often outnumber the rest of the customers. Does this mean there is a probability that more players will appear on the cassette-player market? And if you had to single out one essential quality of We Are Rewind that gives you the most confidence in the role and place your brand has on the market, what would that be?

Yes, I definitely think more brands and manufacturers will enter the cassette player market in the coming years, and honestly, we see that as a positive thing. The more players there are, the more the cassette format itself continues to grow and become part of contemporary culture again. As for We Are Rewind, I believe one of our biggest strengths is the partnerships and collaborations we develop with artists and brands. They help position our products not just as audio devices, but as cultural and lifestyle objects. Collaborations with artists, festivals, fashion brands, or pop culture franchises give our cassette players a more modern, cool, and desirable image, especially for younger generations.

 

Are we going to have a Strokes or Arctic Monkey cassette player soon? How did you decide to colour and name the cassette player models?

We’re working on it, but as you can imagine, it doesn’t depend only on us. As you may have noticed, all of our cassette player models are named after iconic artists and musicians: “Serge” for Serge Gainsbourg, “Kurt” for Kurt Cobain, “Keith” for Keith Richards, “Edith” for Edith Piaf, “Amy” for Amy Winehouse, “Curtis” for Curtis Jackson (50 Cent), and so on. It’s our way of paying tribute to artists who shaped music history and inspired us personally. Each name gives a certain personality and emotional identity to the product beyond its color or design alone.

 
 

“The more players there are, the more the cassette format itself
continues to grow and become part of contemporary culture again.”

 
 

Or maybe Kate Bush? Stranger Things is just part of the conversation now, because of that unbelievably perfect character-music connection, Max Mayfield and Kate Bush, and, yes, the Walkman. How pivotal do you think that moment was, not just in the public’s collective mind, sieving through the present day culture, in unprecedented ways, but also in the music industry, of which you are part of?

I think that moment was hugely important. The connection between Max, Kate Bush, and the Walkman in Stranger Things. That moment felt incredibly genuine and emotionally powerful; it wasn’t just nostalgia for decoration, but a demonstration of how music and physical objects tie deeply to memories. What was most impressive is how it introduced a younger generation to Kate Bush, cassettes, and Walkmans simultaneously. This shift transformed cassettes and players from outdated technology back into cultural symbols, proving that younger audiences are receptive to older formats when they are backed by emotion, storytelling, and authenticity. From an industry perspective, moments like this have a significant impact. They remind artists, labels, and brands that music is more than just audio content consumed through algorithms — it remains a physical, emotional, and visual experience. Ultimately, I believe that scene did more for the image of cassettes and portable music players than most marketing campaigns ever could.

 

 
 

“Music is more than just audio content consumed through algorithms —
it remains a physical, emotional, and visual experience.”

 
 

We Are Rewind “Edith” cassette player

 

What will you always include on a mixtape?

Personally, I would definitely include songs by The Beatles, The Strokes, Arctic Monkeys, Daft Punk, Justice, David Bowie, Pink Floyd, Tame Impala, The Kinks, Fleetwood Mac, Stevie Wonder, Jim Croce, Bon Iver, and Air. For me, a good mixtape should feel like a journey — something that moves between different moods, generations, and sounds while still feeling coherent from beginning to end.

 

What is the biggest challenge for We Are Rewind at the moment?

Probably our biggest challenge today is a technical one. We are constantly looking for ways to improve the playback and recording quality of our cassette players, but this is extremely difficult because most of the factories and industrial infrastructure linked to analog audio no longer exist. On top of that, people with deep expertise in analog technology have become very rare today. Many of the engineers and specialists who mastered these technologies have retired, and very little knowledge has been passed on to newer generations. So a large part of our work today is not only about designing products, but also about rebuilding technical know-how that has almost disappeared.

 

We Are Rewind “Keith” cassette player

 
 

“Our biggest challenge today is rebuilding
know-how that has almost disappeared.”

 
 

Have computers changed music for good?

I think computers have transformed music forever, both in positive and negative ways.
On one hand, technology has democratized music creation enormously. Today, someone can produce an album from a bedroom with tools that would have been unimaginable a few decades ago. That’s incredible. But at the same time, music has also become much more immediate, disposable, and sometimes less intentional. When you have instant access to millions of songs at all times, music can easily turn into background noise rather than something you truly experience. That’s probably why we are seeing such a strong return to physical formats today. People still crave emotion, ritual, and connection. Listening to a cassette or a vinyl forces you to slow down, choose an album, press play, and really engage with the music. In a way, technology changed music forever — but it also created the conditions for people to rediscover more analogue and human ways of listening again.

 

Romain, in this day and age, what do you wish people appreciated more?

I wish people appreciated slowness a little more. Today, everything moves incredibly fast — music, images, information, trends and sometimes it feels like we no longer take the time to truly experience things. That’s also why physical music formats matter to me. Putting on a cassette or a vinyl creates a small ritual. You take the cassette in your hands, open the box, look at the artwork, read the lyrics on the J-card if they’re printed there, discover the photos, press play… all of that is part of the experience. It turns listening into something more intentional and emotional. I think there is something very valuable in reconnecting with these more tangible moments in a world that has become almost entirely digital.

 

“In a way, technology changed music forever —
but it also created the conditions for people to
rediscover more analogue and human ways of listening again.”

 

We Are Rewind co-founders, Romain Boudruche (left) and Matthieu Mazières (right)

 

Website: wearerewind.com | Instagram:@we_are_rewind

 

 

MORE STORIES

“This is truly who I am”: In conversation with artist Heather Chontos

“Continually honing my ability to imagine is an important part of my work”:
In conversation with cinematographer Bill Kirstein

“It’s about having an emotional reaction”:
In conversation with photographer Clèment Vayssieres

 

Posted by classiq in Culture, Interviews | | Comments Off on “Music is more than just audio content, it remains a physical, emotional and visual experience”: In conversation with We Are Rewind

“In the end, you have to teach yourself, find yourself”: In conversation with artist Veronyka Jelinek

“Bird in Hand. Veronyka Jelinek

 

Veronyka Jelinek’s minutious editorial compositions capture with skill, wit and tenderness our world, by using observation as a base for imagination, and blending abstract and simplicity with profound humanity. Her animated illustrations become experiences that create emotional attachment, demonstrating how the power of artwork can persist in an age when phone photography is ubiquitous. With individuality, innovation and feeling, she defies the boundaries of the grid, questioning modes of consumption and communication, and making each project a solution and a statement at the same time.

People talk about something because it surprises them, or because it moves them. Veronyka’s work does both. She not only experiments with drive and enthusiasm with different ideas for images, freely leaping from one concept to another, but seeks a sense of adventure, seeks out unfamiliar territory and cultivates it in drawing by hand, too. She allows the accident to occur, catapulting her further creatively. Either way, what we get is not just great design, but art that equates novelty with value, a tool for reinvention, for questioning, for free expression, for social awareness, a visual record of an artist’s experience and her knowledge of the world. Because it is the human connections and relationships that give birth to the best ideas.

Veronyka Jelinek is able to enter any world that she is creating and live within it and express what it’s like.

In our interview, Veronyka and I talk about her fairly early beginnings in art, about the ups and downs of the creative process and why understanding feedback is important, about an artist’s challenging her/his own assumptions and the viewer’s, why she’s such a big fan of Jacques Tati’s “Playtime”, about Pirosmani’s paintings and why she will always prefer human over perfection.

 

“New York Times Book Review: Any Person Is the Only Self. Veronyka Jelinek

 
 

Veronyka, what’s your earliest drawing memory?

Hi, and thank you for having me.

Well, I always liked colour pencils, blue was usually out pretty quickly. I drew mostly animals, figuring out how to make them recognisable and have the correct number of legs — or drawing vast amounts of legs to amuse myself, as one does. I played with gradients, and knew how colours mixed quite early on, mixing them directly on paper. I might have learned certain tricks and conventions way too early. Being quite careful later on to question many of those in a search for a more truthful way of drawing.

Looking back, it always seemed simple to connect the dots, but I wonder if things could have easily unfolded in a very different way, if different things came along. At a young age, we’re easily influenced while being unaware of it. Perhaps I might still wind up doing drawing, maybe I’d just take a different path to it.

Growing up, I had two art teachers — one at school, another at my afternoon class. I didn’t enjoy the school class at all, the teacher felt boring and uptight to me, with too much pressure on realism, subjects I didn’t like to draw.

The other teacher was what you might call a typical painter, wrinkles on his face, simple shirt, a patterned scarf peeking under his neck, knitted vest, a cotton coat paint splashed here and there, and a kind heart. I’m glad I got to know him a little.

I’d be filling out large sheets of paper with broad strokes, drawing owls and water buffaloes at the local zoo or sitting on a curb with pencils and charcoals, trying to capture an essence of a chestnut tree. The way of seeing things shifted, I could see more, maybe understand more. Our atelier was next door to a music class, so while painting a still life of some sorts we often overheard piano, cello, or French horn seeping through the walls (and had painted those too).

Preparing for my exam to enter an art school, he was helping out a few of us with extra hours. We would get together, at times just two students, sitting for each other’s portrait drawings, he would be sitting and drawing with us – I’m happy to have a charcoal portrait of the young me drawn by my teacher (he passed away not that long after). It’s still somewhere in the stack of old drawings, though it is especially the memory that I’m happy to have. He insisted when we grow up, go out to the big world and maybe get a bit more serious, we should always bring with us the roots, the simple things, the haystacks, the mud, sun, rain and raw materials with which we make art.

I had a great math teacher too, and was always inclined to solving all kinds of puzzles. One can imagine I might have gone on to becoming a scientist of some sort. They’re both paths of curiosity, questioning and intuition.

I think every child likes to draw in some way, as part of exploring the world. Depends if we keep at it. It is one more language, a tool that helps us in seeing the world. We nurture it with experience and, more importantly, experiment.

 
 

“I think every child likes to draw in some way, as part of
exploring the world. Depends if we keep at it.”

 
 

Can you tell us a few words about what your creative path has been like?

Freshly out of school, with no idea how the industry works, I applied for jobs in 3D animation, got accepted in two and took both of them. That was a bit crazy, but gave me a lot of experience in a short time. The little financial cushion I built was welcomed too. I also quickly learned about the ups, and more importantly, how to handle the downs, of freelancing. Peeking into various branches of animation, as they can be quite separated industries, commercials, games, feature films, short independent films, working with non-profit organizations, I was very flexible in using all kinds of software. Leaving 3D in the process and finding my way back to drawing.

Taking a few months break from commissions, I met a lot of great people with similar struggles and dreams, at the La Poudrière in France (quite interesting school where many fantastic animation directors come through). It also opened up the world of editorial illustration for me, and I’ve been running with these two horses since, animation and illustration.

I’ve been fortunate to collaborate on some very nice projects over the years and met a lot of nice people. It’s been sad to see some art directors I have worked with slowly disappear, changing their focus or even leaving art direction altogether. Making images is about relationships too, and finding the right ones for you.

 
 

“Making images is about relationships too,
and finding the right ones for you.”

 
 

“New York Times: Reading a book from start to finish. Veronyka Jelinek

 
 

You mention leaving 3D animation and finding your way back to drawing. Was that something you had wished for? And this is something I always come back to whenever I am thinking of how differently illustration and drawing, especially by hand, as opposed to other ways of image making, communicate: You – you, as an artist, but also the viewer – remember differently with drawing, don’t you?

I agree, drawing, seeing the hand of a person behind it, has a certain power to it. The slight imperfection of the line is in fact perfect in its expression, it speaks, reaches you. Also painting or handmade ceramics.. there is something tactile about it, it has a feeling, it exists.

The brief 3D journey was a practical choice for me. You could focus purely on the motion, as the roles in a 3D production are, most of the time, separated. In commercial art, there could be a tension between your ideal project, the one that comes along, and choosing the compromise you are willing to make – with experience, and growing as an artist, hopefully that gap closes as much as possible, finding the right projects for you. I think, at that time, I wasn’t yet ready to work in animated drawing in its complexity, so 3D was a first step into the working environment for me.

In animation especially, I think it’s great to experience different techniques, drawing, puppet, 3D, flat paper, objects, clay, sand.. Puppet animation is very tactile, you feel the texture in their movement and presence. Especially the felt made puppets have a charm to them. Each of the techniques opens up a different understanding of the motion, the volume, timing, spacing, silhouette, light.. So going through all of those enriches the drawing in return. I like drawing for its plasticity, it lends itself for morphing images, and the control over each frame is instant. I like to take in all the aspects at once when thinking of an animated image — the character and texture of the movement, the composition evolving in time, the visual look, all coming together in an organic way.

Though I’m also intrigued by the collage approach, which I think connects to the montage in animated film editing. Putting two or more images together to create context, a new meaning that sparks between them. I like to explore this correlation, in editing, in collage and sometimes treating a drawing as if it were a collage.

 
 

“Drawing, seeing the hand of a person behind it,
has a certain power to it. […] There is something tactile
about it, it has feeling, it exists.”

 
 

What is the most valuable lesson that you learned at art school and what is the most important skill that you have honed as you’ve evolved as an artist?

Well, at the end, you have to teach yourself, you just have to do the work yourself, find yourself. To have someone who really supports you is rare — I think usually other people have less ambition for us than we do for ourselves, so it’s on you to kind of prove yourself and find out what is important for you. People tend to judge mostly based on accomplishment, not so much intentions. So building a solid portfolio of personal work is a good step forward. I think experimentation is really key. Not stopping yourself from going through the process, not judging oneself too early, there are low points in any creative process —pushing through those is where interesting solutions come from. So, staying true to yourself and trying not to lose that special spark along the way.

It’s useful to understand feedback. Especially when working with clients. In my opinion, when there is (negative) feedback, you should notice the issues, but not necessarily listen to the suggested solutions, the solutions should come from you, formed by your own vocabulary. Often when people feel something doesn’t quite fit, might mean you need to actually push more not retrieve, to make your choice more intentional and confident.

 
 

“There are low points in any creative process —
pushing through those is where interesting solutions come from.”

 
 

“Freedom of expression. Veronyka Jelinek

 
 

You do editorial illustration and you have collaborated with some great print publications. One thing that fascinates about illustration is that it can create a whole new reality of its own. What do you seek to bring new to the editorial? How much of the story does the image, in illustration, have to carry?

Editorial illustration, books and animated films are usually constructed with some sort of text or narrative in mind. Finding the very core ideas, bringing those into images, together with the right feeling. Not only the ‘what’, but the ‘how’. I’m often careful to ditch the most predictable or obvious options too early, as something quite good could arise there if turned around in an interesting way. I like to dive into diverse subjects, from science to book reviews or opinion essays — always seeking a certain honesty, slight poetic twist, the right mood.. I hope to bring images that in some way see beyond the surface of things. Play with concepts, pushing the visual narration, say more perhaps in a less usual way.. I think it’s important to be thoughtful, and also try to pitch solutions that might be unexpected. Often those would be the ones picked, and if not, at least we should try. Images communicate in a way that will always be interesting to me, that I’d like to explore again and again. I think that a great image is not necessarily the one that says it all, but one that inspires something in you.

 
 

“In the end, you have to teach yourself,
You just have to do the work yourself, find yourself.
To have someone who really supports you is rare.”

 
 

I loved your illustration for The New York Times essay “Let students finish the whole book. It can change their lives”. You have collaborated as illustrator on the children’s book Jirka in a Cube. Books not only foster children’s minds and imagination, but they are probably the easiest and most effective way to make important and sensitive issues understandable to children. Have you thought about writing (and illustrating) your own book?

Thank you. And yes, I agree, children’s books will always have a special place for me. Many books from my childhood formed me in some way in visual sensitivity and taste. I would spend hours flipping through pages, studying the images in great detail, an easy child to leave alone without worry. Similarly, I could watch patterns on curtains or a wallpaper and untangling the repetition in them, the lights of a passing car running over a ceiling at night, distorted reflections in spoons, my kaleidoscope, looking for the right little stone to carry in my pocket, observing bubbles of air suspended in layers of ice on a frozen lake..

My mum had a very good taste for children’s books, and of course there is a very rich tradition of book illustration in Czechia altogether. Some of my favourites were Adolf Zabransky, Jiri Trnka, Alois Mikulka, Mirko Hanak, Karel Benes, Jindrich Kovarik, Daisy Mrazkova, Kveta Pacovska or Jiri Salamoun. And nowadays we have a strong young generation too. I have always had a soft spot for rhymes, especially ones with clever playfulness or poetry of life in them (many of those I still remember today), discovering that images and poetry are able to say things that would otherwise sound odd in ‘normal words’. I had one particular book that became quite special to me, called An Island where Violins Grow (Ostrov, kde rostou housle) — an anthology of poems but, more importantly, the graphic design was unexpectedly bold and the illustrations were reproductions of fine art paintings, drawings and collage from a wide range of authors, like Paul Klee, Henri Rousseau, Picasso, Chagall, Magritte, Frantisek Kupka or more serious drawings from authors I had previously known only from children’s illustration. It was an eye opening book for me at that time.

I considered taking a book illustrator path when starting my art studies — feeling very distant and unlikely to me, I then chose design instead. Which was interesting, though a bit restrictive, and I switched to animation at the university. Taking a circle back to books, I’d love to get more into illustrating for children collaborating with other authors, and draw for book covers. I have a few book ideas of my own in a drawer, so, yes, I hope it will happen in some form.

Children’s books especially come with a feeling of responsibility — getting close to the very young minds, that are open to everything, these books are often read again and again. Luckily, there’s some support available for children’s books in Czechia, and a lot of great books are coming out. Though it is baffling to see something as important not receiving little more care, as the industry is known for tight budgets across many countries.

 
 

“Host: Essay on politics in the US. Veronyka Jelinek

 
 

“I think that a great image is not necessarily the one that says it all,
but one that inspires something in you.”

 
 

 
 

You are right, children’s books come with a feeling of responsibility. They need humour, fantasy and illustrations that feed their imagination, they also need some realism in them and it matters how that realism is handled – and a successful pairing of the writer’s storytelling voice and the illustrator’s visual language plays a huge part in that. And as long as we are on this subject, what would be your favourite author-illustrators collaborations for children’s books?

I often like author books the best, a one person vision, so the voice can be really unique in both ways. If to name just one, it would probably be Jockum Nordström.

But what I enjoy about children’s books, and I think it’s quite important, to have a variety of different styles, some more realistic, others more dreamy or funny, painted, drawn or in collage or whatever style it might be, delicate or bold. I think it’s comforting to know there is not just one way to make a book.

 

Absolutely. A variety of styles and voices give children confidence to find their own. Speaking of which, who are the artists you look up to? And who and what else inspires you daily?

There are so many great animation and illustration artists nowadays that it would be very hard to mention just a few. Some images that I often come back to include painted animations by Georges Schwizgebel, Rybczynski’s short film Tango or the motion captured by Muybridge – there’s some basic fascination in movement, time and mechanics in all of those. An unspoken narrative that we project ourselves, contemplating on life or what does it mean to be human. They sort of heighten the reality, turning focus on simple yet important things. Similarly, I can lose myself in old photographs — people of the past, erupting volcanoes, nature, as they can feel almost otherworldly at times.

I think that’s what draws me to animation, too, short animated films have a certain quality of observation and transformation in them, a texture. I love to watch a world reimagined through an animated lens, where movement is broken down to less frames, where ink, paint, lines or cloth form another world that reveals something about the real one.

I enjoy raw drawing, like the unspoiled hand that shines through Pirosmani’s paintings, in his feasts, his majestic animals full of soul. His images somewhere between a painting and an illustration, there’s something very basic about them, coming from folk art or a connection all the way back to cave paintings, in the way he is capturing the life.

 
 

Forest memory. Veronyka Jelinek

 
 

“Short animated films have a certain quality of observation
and transformation in them, a texture.”

 
 

I’m rewatching a series, On painters with Tom Keating, a painter with heaps of knowledge and a soothing voice. You rarely come across a teacher who would be able to share and articulate as much as Tom Keating.

Someone speaking about their work, process, life and thoughts is an interesting one — Bill Cunningham is a marvelous and humble figure. Or Martin Scorsese, how he sees the cinema, his journey through it.

Cinema plays a big role — I would go alone to the local cinema film club at quite a young age, and I probably saw some films too early. We’d be often only a few people in the theater, but there was always a spoken introduction about the film and director, which I thoroughly enjoyed, slowly realising how films are made. I think I got a solid overview of all kinds of cinema, also animated from many different countries and times. In Central Europe, which in fact is or was Eastern essentially, as a former Eastern block — Central is kind of an euphemism for being stuck between the West and East.. the Western culture was coming with a delay in many ways, we would be watching TV in an interesting mix of contemporary and one or two decades-old shows that were new to us at that time.

Later, when studying and working abroad, in Scandinavia, France or The Netherlands, I became more aware of the cultural differences, and hope that images can connect across. However there are differences in how people see images, or what is expected of an image (for example, see this article on editorial illustration in Japan).

To pick some of my favourites now would be Chinatown, A Serious Man, Fox Catcher, Manhattan, Roma, Phantom Thread, Shoot The Piano Player, Le Samuraï, The Long Goodbye, Big Sleep, Aviator.. there are too many. Recently I enjoyed Nouvelle Vague about the shooting of Breathless.

When growing up, my absolute favourite was Man on The Moon, later I was a big fan of Tati’s Playtime. So, I think I have a taste for the peculiar. And, of course, the terrific sequence — in perhaps a lesser known, Le Magnifique (The Man from Acapulco). If you’ve seen it, you’d surely remember the cleaning lady coming in the midst of the shootout on a beach, casually walking with her vacuum cleaner over the sand paying no attention to the gunshots, entering a door completely out of place, cut to entering a room where the writer lives, disturbing his narration of the book he’s writing.

I also watch a lot of old films for the quality of their image and sound, there’s something special in them, like Breakfast at Tiffany’s or Vertigo. I’m coming back to the series Northern Exposure, especially the early episodes, there’s a lot of cinema playfulness in them, great characters, mood, the music. It’s a rare one and, in a way, it exists against all odds. Of course I need to mention the graphic novels by Chris Ware, the mood of his narratives that span decades, watching his characters cope, his point of view — sort of distant yet in the same time so piercingly personal.

Time is an interesting one — timing in animation or cinema, choosing the pace of things. Still image is so silent, waiting, you can watch it for whatever time you want to spend, for a second or hours. Film flows, and committing to a pace is a choice — I hope there still be slower paced films made in the future. I think we need them.

 
 

“Film flows, and committing to a pace is a choice —
I hope there still be slower paced films made in the future.
I think we need them.”

 
 

Observation is enjoyable to me – another example could be the intro sequence to John Mulaney’s Everybody’s in LA. Speaking of which, great comedy. Any form of art, when done well, is inspiring, when things come together in that special way. And I find inspiration in many things — though usually they have something in common. It might be art, paintings, sculpture, drawings, sketches.. something about it touches me, some form of truthfulness, makes you feel alive.

In daily moments — especially in nature, encounters with wild animals, hearing bird’s wings, experiencing nature’s rough beauties, the moments where I forget myself. I’m looking for honesty in expression. I’m fascinated by children’s drawing, old cave paintings or stone carvings, their quality of line strokes and forms, their special way of viewing things. I think it’s important not to forget those connections to our past. I will always prefer human over perfection. There’s some form of timelessness in it, where I feel I understand the human behind the image.

 
 

“I will always prefer human over perfection.
There’s some form of timelessness in it,
where I feel I understand the human behind the image.”

 
 

When working, I’m looking for a quiet place, not listening to music. I need space to connect with myself, with that feeling of focus and inspiration, connect to the topic at hand — that is especially true when animating, but drawing as well. I want to feel the sense of movement and character — I almost need to become a rabbit to draw a rabbit, or a cloud or a hand or a running person, and then aim to capture that feeling.

 
 

“Host: Essay on politics in the US (3). Veronyka Jelinek

 
 

“I want to feel the sense of movement and character —
I almost need to become a rabbit to draw a rabbit, or a cloud
or a hand or a running person, and then aim to capture that feeling.”

 
 

From the table. Veronyka Jelinek

 
 

I don’t know why, but I already knew I wanted to ask you whether you prefer to work in silence. Do you have a favourite quiet place when you work?

I have a small studio at home, quiet and calm. I like to work alone or alongside my partner present nearby.

I could never work in a cafe, as I often hear others might enjoy. Not only the audible noise, but the moving people are not white noise, but a distraction to me. Unless, of course, you’re drawing from life. When your mind is tuned on sensitive, openness, observation, noticing things and connections, it’s not that easy to switch back and forth. I used to work in a shared office before, where it is almost a norm that everyone listens to their own music on the headphones, to create their own mental area. I notice how the work was much more on the surface compared to now, when I take effort to create a ‘safe space’ for it.

I feel similarly of other forms of noise, like, for example, I try to be as close to the drawing as possible, avoiding too much technology or software in between the hand and the drawing. If drawing digitally, I often restrain from using the undo button, and prefer drawing over and over to find the right shape of things. I like to shape the process itself to feel immediate, a natural flow. At times, you can feel the image take shape almost like if chiseled away, sculpted one line, one decision at a time in a process of directed intuition.

I think that process takes an imprint on the outcome. And even sitting at a computer or a desk could change that relation. I prefer to keep my process more relaxed whenever possible.

Eventually, I hope to be also able to bring some of my more free style drawings or abstracted animations towards getting commissioned, that’d be really rewarding.

 
 

“If drawing digitally, I often restrain from
using the undo button, and prefer drawing over and over
to find the right shape of things.”

 
 

And yet, what is your relationship to music? I am asking because, first, I caught a glimpse of a few jazz LP covers among your works, and second, because illustration, and graphic design, lands itself differently on an album cover, it can capture an entire album in the choice of colour, line and pattern used.

When I listen to music, I like to listen to it intentionally, not as a background. However, lot of music comes to me through the cinema. The Jazz album covers were a side project of mine, to get drawing going on a common topic, of course there is an energy in music that sometimes almost leads the hand, asking to be conveyed through an image. I might get back to this series, as I don’t think I’ve succeeded yet in catching it on paper. To draw music, since it has a rhythm, texture, mood, layers, evolves in time — it’s a bit like movement, like animation that is condensed into just one frame, which I’m also intrigued to play with. To play with layers.

To mention some artists I come back to, would probably be Django Reinhardt, Esbjörn Svensson Trio and Nino Rota. And ‘Stormy Weather’ by Ben Webster recording from Copenhagen 1965.

It’d be a pleasure to collaborate with music artists more often, either on album covers or music videos (I have worked on one, though haven’t directed myself). There’s space for abstraction, play and unexpected choices. Sometimes when listening to a song, my animation director’s mind takes over. So, I have a few imagined music videos stored in my head that trigger every time I hear that track.

 
 

“There is an energy in music that sometimes almost
leads the hand, asking to be conveyed through an image.”

 
 

Can you share a few favourite album covers? And who would you like to direct a music video for?

No particular favourite one comes to mind right now, and, to be honest, it is quite rare for me to come by a physical music album.

For a music video, I’d say if someone likes my images, there’s a big chance I’d like their music, so if anybody is interested just drop me a line, I guess! I can see myself making both more abstracted and loose animations, experimenting with various techniques, and also narration based ones. Altogether a music video is an opportunity to get loose and find possibilities of moving image that wouldn’t cut it in most other formats, I think it can be a great place for growth.

 

 
 

Thank you for this great list of artists, films and filmmakers, art in so many forms that has informed and inspired you along your creative and personal journey.

I love that you mention slower paced films. Yes, I believe we need them, too.

And I also think it is time we revisited Jacques Tati’s films. Not only because he was a filmmaker of great visual sensibility, but he still can, decades on, just through images, make us question our modern ways and values. And the most extraordinary part is that he does that through humour, humour that is almost entirely visual.

And speaking of visual creativity, I have always believed that the animated short film – you’ve mentioned it, too – is a space of infinite freedom. It is a medium that allows each film to invent new universes, new ways of making.”

I notice I’ve mentioned many examples of film noir.

 

I love noir.

Maybe Playtime could be almost also included as one, since it has a main character sort of silently lost in the world, trying to make sense of it all — aren’t we all? There might be something in Tati’s films that feels similar to what Sempé does, his illustrations are gentle while putting a person in relation to the environment, with a hint of humour, but also a sense of loneliness. I was happy to see an exhibition of his works in Prague, and went through all of his New Yorker covers when he left.

 

I love Sempé, too.

To get back to short animated films, it is a perfect format to do exactly that — invent your own way of telling, your rules or non-rules, your images, how you edit them or how they relate to sound. There are so many aspects to a film, it can be overwhelming to attempt creating one. I guess your only limitation in creating your own universe within a short film, would be how much of your lifetime are you ready to devote to making it happen, since although wonderful, it could also be quite a demanding medium.

The latest one I saw was a personal story without words, inspired by a distant relative who disappeared in a forest: Whose Woods Are These by Kate Nartker. I enjoyed how the film didn’t explain anything, as nobody knew what really happened to her. The film being a set of impressions of a forest, the night setting in, a figure entering it, all done in weaved textile with an intense texture to it. Refreshing.

 
 

”[Jacques Tati’s] Playtime could be almost also included as one
[film noir] since it has a main character sort of silently lost
in the world, trying to make sense of it all — aren’t we all.”

 
 

I am going to look this film up and watch it. What you are saying, about the fact that you enjoyed how the film didn’t explain anything, is something I often think about. I wish more movies which are made today would let the images more to carry the story. Do you think we, as society, will overcome this tendency to overexplaining things today, and place more trust in the audience to discover things for themselves?

Yes, certainly, watch it if you have a chance, I think you’d enjoy it too, the technique used is really interesting.

This is debated quite a bit I’d say. Show, don’t tell, and sometimes perhaps not even show really. My answer would be it depends on the material first, that would decide a bit in which direction you might want to take it. More than a shift, I would expect polarisation, some images will be explanatory and some go the other direction. Smaller films or certain subjects. Also, it depends on how visible you want your choices to be – if you use the cinema language to make a certain feeling come across through colour, edit, blocking or choice of light and lenses etc., you oftentimes want them to be felt, not necessarily noticed consciously.

The other problem is usually the financial backing, as long as you prefer your film to be for ‘everybody’ to get your money back, then you will probably make certain choices to get there.. and lose some part of the audience because of that anyway. Film is different from a book, each medium can do certain things, but there are also not so great books as there are not so great films, and not all seek to be great in the first place.

I believe it was Hitchcock who said that there was no need for cinema to abandon the language of the silent film era the way it did when sound came to be. The pure visual narrative constructed through moving images (and occasional written cards). In some sense, a lot of animated short films and some features (I liked The Red Turtle by Dudok de Wit) keep closer to this way of communicating, or going even further with morphing, dream sequences, camera moves (Mind Game does really exceptionally in mixing an action filled drama with sequences of contemplations on life and death).

When film was in its infancy, you could already see some potential developments, film as a documentary, film as a narrative where edit started slowly to take place, and film as a fantastic theatre in the Georges Méliès (also narrative) way. Seeing some of the very old documentary sequences, they almost felt like an abstract cinema to me, since they were at times non-narrative really, just a long shot of fish swimming in an aquarium captured on film, observation. Images magnified through the medium.

If I look around, especially in editorial, there is a visible shift recently towards the less obvious — however, having text alongside, you are invited to be not so specific and you’ll still get the point across. After all, not all images are supposed to be narrative and that’s a good thing – we need both.

 

Book illustration: “Marcovaldo”. Veronyka Jelinek

 

Have you considered film title design or poster design?

Yes, that’d be a great area to explore. One has to bump into the right people to make it happen, I guess. I’ll put it on my list.

 

And lastly, Veronyka, in this time and age, what do you wish people appreciated more?

I guess, being happy to be alive.

As people, we have created quite complicated systems for ourselves to live in, so I think it’s worth remembering perhaps you don’t need to follow all of it.

Other than that, spending time in nature is worth a while.

 

Website: veronykajelinek.com | Instagram: @veronyka.jelinek

 
 

MORE STORIES

“We are the postmen of the past who leave letters to those of the future”:
In conversation with Ana Gurduza

The Lost Daughter: In conversation with costume designer Edward K. Gibbon

“You only need to assemble, or even easier, distract”:
In conversation with collage artist Vesna Vrdoljak

Posted by classiq in Art, Interviews | | Comments Off on “In the end, you have to teach yourself, find yourself”: In conversation with artist Veronyka Jelinek