Holgut (Liesbeth De Ceulaer, 2021)

Belgian filmmaker Liesbeth De Ceulaer's Holgut is a film many years in the making, and it proves to be a tough one to classify: both the London Film Festival and the IMDb have it down as a documentary, but De Ceulaer has infused her film with enough dramatic elements to make this status questionable.  That said, in Holgut it's often hard to identify what has been staged for the camera and what is straight documentary—although you might want to spend some time doing so, as the film offers precious little else to engage with.  While there's a kernel of a good idea here, Holgut shows little to no interest in developing it, and the end result is an infuriatingly opaque experience.

In a frozen wilderness, brothers Roman and Kyym spend their days hunting a rare, near-mythical reindeer; parallel to this expedition is the story of scientist Semyon, who is searching the same icy landscape for mammoth remains, which he hopes can be used for cloning purposes.  Once these three have scoured vast swathes of this unforgiving region, which once formed part of the mammoth steppe, it seems that the only way is down, and a journey beneath the permafrost takes the story quite literally in a different direction.  As you might expect, a point does arrive when the two quests become linked in a way that goes beyond their shared setting, and these seemingly disparate storylines come together in a manner which is nothing if not surprising.      

While watching Holgut, it doesn't take long to latch onto the contrasting nature of the quests: while Roman and Kyym are hunting what is, at best, a highly-endangered animal, Semyon is aiming to bring a species back from the depths of extinction.  There's a lot riding on both of these expeditions, so why does the film give off a sense that there's so very little at stake?  Even at a scant 75 minutes, Holgut feels stretched to breaking point, and at no stage is there a sense of urgency—which is kind of remarkable, given the subject matter.  While the film has one or two interesting points to make regarding both extinction and climate change, these are delivered in such an oblique manner that it seems highly unlikely that anyone will consider Holgut to be a remotely useful work on these subjects—especially when there are other films available that cover these topics in a much more accessible way.

Holgut comes off especially badly when compared with Genesis 2.0, a 2018 documentary that covered similar ground, also via dual storylines: one concerning the science that may bring about the return of woolly mammoths, the other focusing on those hunting for the same creatures' tusks.  Genesis 2.0 is an absorbing, thought-provoking piece of cinema—in short, it's everything that Holgut isn't—and those seeking a mammoth fix would do well to seek it out, or even opt for a random instalment of the Ice Age franchise.  With pacing that might be best described as—ahem—glacial, Holgut is, unfortunately, something of an ordeal, one which feels like double its actual running time.  We can hope for better things to come from Liesbeth De Ceulaer, but Holgut delivers neither the insight nor the experience it promises. 

Darren Arnold

Images: Flanders Image

All-In (Volkan Üce, 2021)

At the start of the summer season, Ismail and Hakan start working in Nashira Resort, a gigantic all-inclusive hotel at the Turkish Riviera. Ismail is 18 and dropped out of school to earn money for his family. He dreams of working as a hairdresser, but is employed as a kitchen porter at the hotel. Hakan is 25 and the youngest of 12 children. He quit his studies and hopes to overcome his social anxiety in the hotel; he will work as a lifeguard at the aquapark. Both have come to the hotel business to move ahead in life and to learn English. At first both young men are very shy and avoid all contact with the hotel guests. They have learned to be respectful to others and they understand their position. They observe the colourful swimsuits, the unemptied plates, the different ways of addressing other people, and gradually discover the sorts of opportunities that come with them. 

As the friendship between Ismail and Hakan grows stronger, it becomes clear how different they are. Watching the guests from behind his buffet, Ismail’s appetite to discover the Western world only seems to increase. But Hakan struggles to be ‘the nobody’ the hotel business demands him to be. In vain, he tries to discuss Pushkin and Dostoyevsky with the Russian tourists. Is it at all possible to set your identity aside for the sake of money? And who can be an example to whom? By following Ismail and Hakan during two summers in the hotel, All-In explores the loss of innocence against the backdrop of a fading European dream. Initial kindness turns into indifference as Ismail and Hakan’s initiation into the absurd world of Western tourism soon leads them to ask: which dreams are really worth aspiring to?

Source/images: Flanders Image

Luce en de rots (Britt Raes, 2022)

In less than three months' time, this incarnation of Holland Focus will reach its fifth anniversary, and one of the very first films to be featured on the site was Britt Raes' Catherine; if you haven't already seen it, this excellent, moving short can be viewed in its entirety—and for free—by clicking here.  When it was reviewed here, Catherine was screening as part of the 2017 London Film Festival, which also featured Daan Bakker's portmanteau movie Quality Time; Bakker's film was scored by Bram Meindersma, who composed the wonderfully atmospheric music for Britt Raes' new film, Luce and the Rock (Luce en de rots).  Meindersma can do more than just compose, however: he's also responsible for Luce and the Rock's sound design, and he voiced the main character in what was Quality Time's first, best and funniest segment.

In addition to the presence of Meindersma, Luce and the Rock also features a credit for Imge Özbilge, whose fine short #21XOXO was chosen for the 2019 London Film Festival; for a small rental fee, you can view Özbilge's film here.  With any luck, Luce and the Rock will be among the selections for the 2022 London Film Festival, but it has already screened at this year's Berlinale—where it played as part of the Generations strand and received a special mention—as well as enjoying an outing at Brussels' Anima festival, where it picked up the Best Belgian Short Film award.  Luce and the Rock is virtually the same length as Catherine, and as such it has some versatility: it could either work as part of a larger programme of shorts, or play before a feature film—as was the case when Catherine screened with Michel Ocelot's Ivan Tsarevitch and the Changing Princess.

Luce and the Rock begins with the girl of the title living a happy, tranquil life in the small village where she resides with her mother.  There are a number of other equally happy villagers, all of whom enjoy life in their cute little houses.  There's little for anyone in the village to worry about, and the biggest inconvenience for Luce is that she's not too fond of the dark; thankfully, a glowstick is always on hand to help Luce get through the nights.  The villagers' idyll is suddenly shattered when a gigantic rock creature quite literally rolls into town, in the process reducing most of the little blue homes to rubble.  Naturally, nobody is very pleased with this development, and the uninvited guest soon becomes a target of the villagers' anger; it doesn't help matters that the creature oozes an unappealing yellow gloop.  While Luce is just as annoyed as the rest of the village's population, her stance softens once she spends some time with this maladroit but charming visitor.

Like its predecessor, Luce and the Rock features both top-drawer animation and a useful message, with its title characters' interactions illustrating how friendships can blossom despite—ahem—rocky beginnings; the film also makes a valuable point regarding inclusivity, and how differences need not form a barrier to getting along with others.  Luce and the Rock greatly benefits from Britt Raes' terrific use of colour, which lends a real warmth to both the characters and their settings, and it's a real pity when our time in this magical world comes to an end; there's a lot packed into the 13 minutes, and it's likely that the film will withstand repeated viewings.  Catherine was always going to be a tough film to follow, but Luce and the Rock is a very worthy successor to that superb feline-themed film; let's hope we don't have to wait another five years to find out what Britt Raes does next. 

Darren Arnold

Images: Flanders Image