When she was honing her skills as a freelance filmmaker in Yangon during the early 2010s, first time documentarian Hnin Ei Hlaing was appalled at the state of racial tension towards the ethnic Muslim Rohingya, leading her to return to her hometown to discover the truth. As a female filmmaker, she wanted a female-centric thought piece concerning birth control and pregnancy: “Midwives” is the fruit of her labor (no pun intended) that resulted from her meeting two of these women who run an antenatal clinic in Rakhine state.
Midwives is screening at Taiwan International Documentary Film Festival
A heavily pregnant women is whisked down a well-trodden street of curious onlookers, towards a makeshift clinic; a back-to-basics wooden framed shelter with an IV fluid drip coiled around one of its foundations. This is the antenatal clinic run by a no-nonsense Buddhist midwife, Hla, who is joined by her muslim “kalar” (Local...
Midwives is screening at Taiwan International Documentary Film Festival
A heavily pregnant women is whisked down a well-trodden street of curious onlookers, towards a makeshift clinic; a back-to-basics wooden framed shelter with an IV fluid drip coiled around one of its foundations. This is the antenatal clinic run by a no-nonsense Buddhist midwife, Hla, who is joined by her muslim “kalar” (Local...
- 5/10/2024
- by Leon Overee
- AsianMoviePulse
Bruno Mourral’s debut “Kidnapping Inc.” is a rough watch. Set in the Haitian capital of Port-au-Prince, the crime-comedy of errors slowly devolves into a political thriller, but has neither enough laughs nor the thrills to sustain itself. It follows the exploits of two kidnappers-for-hire who end up roped into a presidential scandal, but despite being led by a capable ensemble, the film is never quite cohesive enough to make the two halves of its political rigmarole feel remotely whole.
High-strung Zoe (Rolaphton Mercure) and his cool-as-a-cucumber partner Doc (Jasmuel Andri) have a casual, personable dynamic even when they shove a kidnapping victim in their trunk. This is all we know about them when we’re dropped in-medias-res into the middle of their latest job, a high-profile kidnapping, the details of which they aren’t fully aware. They’d rather argue about Spanish soccer clubs than ask questions of their...
High-strung Zoe (Rolaphton Mercure) and his cool-as-a-cucumber partner Doc (Jasmuel Andri) have a casual, personable dynamic even when they shove a kidnapping victim in their trunk. This is all we know about them when we’re dropped in-medias-res into the middle of their latest job, a high-profile kidnapping, the details of which they aren’t fully aware. They’d rather argue about Spanish soccer clubs than ask questions of their...
- 1/24/2024
- by Siddhant Adlakha
- Indiewire
Sundance Review: Twice Colonized is a Powerful, Illuminating Look at the Future of Indigenous Rights
What does it mean to confront the colonial sins of the past and truly make reparations for the erasure of cultures? Lin Alluna’s Twice Colonized directly explores this question through its subject: Aaju Peter, a lawyer, activist, and grandmother who travels the world to address a growing crisis of opportunity in the Arctic. Without opportunity, traditions cannot continue. Early she takes offense to Seal Hunt activists, asking for an Inuit exemption so hunters can continue to hunt as they’ve done for generations.
The film and Peter confront the question of indigenous rights in a modern economy built on the goal of “sustainability.” Without seal hunts the Canadian arctic and its traditions risk becoming a thing of the past. Not everyone aspires to pack up and move to Toronto or work in the oil fields.
A boundary-breaker who confronts her friends and their views of what it means to...
The film and Peter confront the question of indigenous rights in a modern economy built on the goal of “sustainability.” Without seal hunts the Canadian arctic and its traditions risk becoming a thing of the past. Not everyone aspires to pack up and move to Toronto or work in the oil fields.
A boundary-breaker who confronts her friends and their views of what it means to...
- 2/14/2023
- by John Fink
- The Film Stage
Barcelona – Yanick Létourneau’s Quebec-based production house Peripheria has teamed with lead producer Samuel Chauvin’s Promenades Films in France, as well as Haiti’s Muska Group and Canal Plus Antilles to co-produce comedic-thriller “Kidnapping Inc.,” the sophomore feature of French director Bruno Mourral (“Kafou”).
France’s Cnc National Film Board, French-language TV channel TV5 Monde and the Organization of La Francophonie (Oif) are also backing the title which marks a novel Haitian play for broad audiences .
“Kidnapping Inc.” joins Philippe Lacôte’s “Night of the Kings ”on a Peripheria production slate whose credits, past and past, confirm it as one of Canada’s most cosmopolitan producers, seeking to nurture talent and help build industries in Latin America, Africa, Europe and the Middle East. past credits include Juan Andres Arango’ “X500” and Ioana Uricaru’s “Lemonade.”
Set in Haiti “’Kidnapping’ is a broad audience comedy about kidnapping, turning on a...
France’s Cnc National Film Board, French-language TV channel TV5 Monde and the Organization of La Francophonie (Oif) are also backing the title which marks a novel Haitian play for broad audiences .
“Kidnapping Inc.” joins Philippe Lacôte’s “Night of the Kings ”on a Peripheria production slate whose credits, past and past, confirm it as one of Canada’s most cosmopolitan producers, seeking to nurture talent and help build industries in Latin America, Africa, Europe and the Middle East. past credits include Juan Andres Arango’ “X500” and Ioana Uricaru’s “Lemonade.”
Set in Haiti “’Kidnapping’ is a broad audience comedy about kidnapping, turning on a...
- 11/18/2019
- by Emilio Mayorga
- Variety Film + TV
Concealed under subtle gestures, comfortable silences, and the mutual reassurance that one’s imperfections are insignificant, lies the foundation for our romanticized idea of love. One that cares little for consequence and that offers relief from the burdens of routine. This is exactly the kind of ferocious emotion director Maxime Giroux presents his characters with in “Felix and Meira,” his alluring portrayal of an improbable relationship between a married Hasidic woman and a secular middle-aged man going through a crisis.
Tales of forbidden romance between people from opposing worlds are evidently commonplace, but here Giroux handles the strong yearning for tangible connection afflicting both parties with utmost sincerity never asking for his protagonists to reveal more or to give more than they can within their strictly defined boundaries.
Taking care of her daughter and being and active and honorable member of the Hasidic community is all that’s expected of Meira (Hadas Yaron), a beautiful young woman who is clearly dissatisfied with the restrictive expectations of her religious existence. Her husband Shulem (Luzer Twersky) is by no means a perfectly devotee, but he strives to please his fellow men by showing he can manage his household and conform to the defined norms. There is affection in their marriage, but it can only be perceived through cracks in the walls of a fortress made of rules and regulations that separates them.
Nearby, Felix (Martin Dubreuil), a perpetually ambitionless bachelor, is dealing with his father’s imminent death and their irreparable detachment. Although members of the same Montreal neighborhood both Meira and Felix carry out parallel lives unaware of one another. They each enjoy drawing silly creatures, and when they meet at a Jewish deli one morning, this seemingly irrelevant coincidence is enough to ignite their interest.
As Giroux crafts opportunities for the lovebirds to develop intimacy, which go from childishly playing ping pong to enjoying some tunes in silence, he doesn’t forget their particular dilemmas and the risks that the mere idea of hanging out represents for Meira. While mostly quiet, she is an intriguing box of tiny secrets that expose her true personality underneath the oppressive façade she must wear. Small demonstrations of rebellion assert Meira’s individuality even if briefly. Listening to music from a record she must keep hidden, playing with noisy mousetraps despite Shulem’s disapproval, and most importantly, deciding over her own body when those around her pressure her to have more children.
With her captivating and powerfully expressive gaze, Yaron gives Meira a balanced air of innocence and subdued defiance. Slowly, as Felix invites her to discover the sounds and sights beyond the opaque environment she knows, Meira falls for him both because of his kind efforts and because he symbolizes freedom. Yet, Giroux’s film is not concerned with denouncing any particular belief or to depict religion as a paralyzing aspect of Meira’s life, instead he advocates for choice by showing there are other people, Shulem included, that are comfortable with what their faith asks of them. Meira is not, and in this culture straying from the flock has severe repercussions.
Similarly, the men in Meira’s life are confronted with their respective predicaments both as individuals and in relation to her. Felix believes his father was disappointed in him and this becomes a torturous thought, while Shulem can’t fathom the idea of losing his family and being seen as a failure. Giroux refrains from vilifying either of them or judging their reactions, because his three subjects suffer from devastating loneliness that can’t be simply rationalized.
In a marvelously touching scene Felix and Shulem discuss their feelings and, while clarifying they are enemies in the battlefield of love, they also agree that their common goal should be Meira’s happiness. Both Dubreuil’s effortlessly charming demeanor and Twersky’s stern, yet caring, performance capture two distinct versions of romantic love that keep Meira at a crossroads.
Enhancing the strong narrative at hand even further, Giroux makes use of every other storytelling element in a deliberately delicate manner. Even if for some the lack of lengthy dialogue or heavy-handed exposition might appear problematic, these qualities allow the filmmaker to rely, as he should, on the audiovisual aspects. Sara Mishara’s cinematography is brilliantly elegant throughout, but when the couple meets in New York, the shiny lights and crowded streets add a gorgeous exuberance. Colored by neon hues Felix and Meira look even more like two foreigners to the city, to love, and to each other, just trying to make sense of it all.
As an interesting extra touch, Giroux takes the time to momentarily drives away from the central conflict and focuses on singular occurrences like a conversation between a couple of bystanders or to drift into a musical sequence that is equally vibrant and timeless. Music is indeed a fantastic part of “Felix and Meira” whether is classic ballads or themes composed by Olivier Alary.
Unassumingly, Giroux transcended the shackles of familiarity and created a film that is not revolutionary, but definitely remarkable. To love out of choice or to love out of duty is what Meira must decide, but as we see in the film’s perfectly ambiguous conclusion, neither option is faultless. “Felix and Meira” is an exquisite portrait of a possibly futile love that exudes seductive melancholia and delightful nuances.
Now playing in L.A. at the Laemmle Royal and Laemmle's Town Center, and in NYC at the Landmark Sunshine Cinema and Lincoln Plaza Cinemas...
Tales of forbidden romance between people from opposing worlds are evidently commonplace, but here Giroux handles the strong yearning for tangible connection afflicting both parties with utmost sincerity never asking for his protagonists to reveal more or to give more than they can within their strictly defined boundaries.
Taking care of her daughter and being and active and honorable member of the Hasidic community is all that’s expected of Meira (Hadas Yaron), a beautiful young woman who is clearly dissatisfied with the restrictive expectations of her religious existence. Her husband Shulem (Luzer Twersky) is by no means a perfectly devotee, but he strives to please his fellow men by showing he can manage his household and conform to the defined norms. There is affection in their marriage, but it can only be perceived through cracks in the walls of a fortress made of rules and regulations that separates them.
Nearby, Felix (Martin Dubreuil), a perpetually ambitionless bachelor, is dealing with his father’s imminent death and their irreparable detachment. Although members of the same Montreal neighborhood both Meira and Felix carry out parallel lives unaware of one another. They each enjoy drawing silly creatures, and when they meet at a Jewish deli one morning, this seemingly irrelevant coincidence is enough to ignite their interest.
As Giroux crafts opportunities for the lovebirds to develop intimacy, which go from childishly playing ping pong to enjoying some tunes in silence, he doesn’t forget their particular dilemmas and the risks that the mere idea of hanging out represents for Meira. While mostly quiet, she is an intriguing box of tiny secrets that expose her true personality underneath the oppressive façade she must wear. Small demonstrations of rebellion assert Meira’s individuality even if briefly. Listening to music from a record she must keep hidden, playing with noisy mousetraps despite Shulem’s disapproval, and most importantly, deciding over her own body when those around her pressure her to have more children.
With her captivating and powerfully expressive gaze, Yaron gives Meira a balanced air of innocence and subdued defiance. Slowly, as Felix invites her to discover the sounds and sights beyond the opaque environment she knows, Meira falls for him both because of his kind efforts and because he symbolizes freedom. Yet, Giroux’s film is not concerned with denouncing any particular belief or to depict religion as a paralyzing aspect of Meira’s life, instead he advocates for choice by showing there are other people, Shulem included, that are comfortable with what their faith asks of them. Meira is not, and in this culture straying from the flock has severe repercussions.
Similarly, the men in Meira’s life are confronted with their respective predicaments both as individuals and in relation to her. Felix believes his father was disappointed in him and this becomes a torturous thought, while Shulem can’t fathom the idea of losing his family and being seen as a failure. Giroux refrains from vilifying either of them or judging their reactions, because his three subjects suffer from devastating loneliness that can’t be simply rationalized.
In a marvelously touching scene Felix and Shulem discuss their feelings and, while clarifying they are enemies in the battlefield of love, they also agree that their common goal should be Meira’s happiness. Both Dubreuil’s effortlessly charming demeanor and Twersky’s stern, yet caring, performance capture two distinct versions of romantic love that keep Meira at a crossroads.
Enhancing the strong narrative at hand even further, Giroux makes use of every other storytelling element in a deliberately delicate manner. Even if for some the lack of lengthy dialogue or heavy-handed exposition might appear problematic, these qualities allow the filmmaker to rely, as he should, on the audiovisual aspects. Sara Mishara’s cinematography is brilliantly elegant throughout, but when the couple meets in New York, the shiny lights and crowded streets add a gorgeous exuberance. Colored by neon hues Felix and Meira look even more like two foreigners to the city, to love, and to each other, just trying to make sense of it all.
As an interesting extra touch, Giroux takes the time to momentarily drives away from the central conflict and focuses on singular occurrences like a conversation between a couple of bystanders or to drift into a musical sequence that is equally vibrant and timeless. Music is indeed a fantastic part of “Felix and Meira” whether is classic ballads or themes composed by Olivier Alary.
Unassumingly, Giroux transcended the shackles of familiarity and created a film that is not revolutionary, but definitely remarkable. To love out of choice or to love out of duty is what Meira must decide, but as we see in the film’s perfectly ambiguous conclusion, neither option is faultless. “Felix and Meira” is an exquisite portrait of a possibly futile love that exudes seductive melancholia and delightful nuances.
Now playing in L.A. at the Laemmle Royal and Laemmle's Town Center, and in NYC at the Landmark Sunshine Cinema and Lincoln Plaza Cinemas...
- 4/25/2015
- by Carlos Aguilar
- Sydney's Buzz
What’s Under the Hat?: Giroux Proposes Unorthodox Paradox
Confectioned with a what makes us different makes us the same counterargument, Maxime Giroux’s third feature is one that finds commonalities between the profiled insular community and those who are lonely while visibly surrounded by others. And while the improbability of the hypothetically tinged union arguably makes this akin to science fiction matter, the apolitical, unified titular observational drama moves beyond the losing religious faith template with its moving, lingering anti-loquacious stance. Worldly in its reach and neighborly in approach, Félix et Meira is thoughtful tableaux that verberates with unabashedly sensitivity — this is Giroux’s most affecting film to date.
While fertility rates of 50’s & 60’s Quebec have plummeted to dismal rates for most French Canadians, comparatively, Montreal’s Orthodox Jewish community maintain old fashion practices of ensuring there is a next of kin. Just one among the many...
Confectioned with a what makes us different makes us the same counterargument, Maxime Giroux’s third feature is one that finds commonalities between the profiled insular community and those who are lonely while visibly surrounded by others. And while the improbability of the hypothetically tinged union arguably makes this akin to science fiction matter, the apolitical, unified titular observational drama moves beyond the losing religious faith template with its moving, lingering anti-loquacious stance. Worldly in its reach and neighborly in approach, Félix et Meira is thoughtful tableaux that verberates with unabashedly sensitivity — this is Giroux’s most affecting film to date.
While fertility rates of 50’s & 60’s Quebec have plummeted to dismal rates for most French Canadians, comparatively, Montreal’s Orthodox Jewish community maintain old fashion practices of ensuring there is a next of kin. Just one among the many...
- 4/13/2015
- by Eric Lavallee
- IONCINEMA.com
IMDb.com, Inc. takes no responsibility for the content or accuracy of the above news articles, Tweets, or blog posts. This content is published for the entertainment of our users only. The news articles, Tweets, and blog posts do not represent IMDb's opinions nor can we guarantee that the reporting therein is completely factual. Please visit the source responsible for the item in question to report any concerns you may have regarding content or accuracy.