Sharna Pax presents NARRATION.S film programme

‘temps chien & loup’
15.03.2020 15.00 - ?

entrée gratuite / free entrance

La Vallée
Rue Adolphe Lavallée, 39
1080 Molenbeek saint-Jean

“The link is nicely done; especially between “speaking nearby” and indirect language. In other words, a speaking that does not objectify, does not point to an object as if it is distant from the speaking subject or absent from the speaking place. A speaking that reflects on itself and can come very close to a subject without, however, seizing or claiming it. A speaking in brief, whose closures are only moments of transition opening up to other possible moments of transition — these are forms of indirectness well understood by anyone in tune with poetic language. Every element constructed in a film refers to the world around it, while having at the same time a life of its own. And this life is precisely what is lacking when one uses word, image, or sound just as an instrument of thought. To say therefore that one prefers not to speak about but rather to speak nearby, is a great challenge. Because actually, this is not just a technique or a statement to be made verbally. It is an attitude in life, a way of positioning oneself in relation to the world.”

- Trinh T Minh Ha


Disintegration 93-96
Miko Revereza
2017 I US I 6 min

Living in the USA illegally for over 20 years, Miko Revereza reflects on his family’s relocation from Manila to Los Angeles in this introspective essay film. Patching together self-portraiture and home-movie footage, his sombre yet resolute voice-over contemplates the weight of postcolonial history and obstructed futures on diasporic identities. A montage of home movies from the title’s years presents an anatomy of family ties and a reliving of one’s own identity.

We went to wonderland
Xiaolu Guo
2008 I UK I 76 min

The story of Xiaolu Guo’s parents’ trip to Europe. Her old father has lost his voice, but he writes notes:

“Water is so good in the West.
Flowers are long dead on Karl Marx’s grave.
English trains don’t respect people’s time.
When Picasso died, my daughter was born.”

He observes the drifting clouds, his wife looks at the Houses of Parliament. As he wanders in the Vatican, his wife is still praising the English parks. This is the first, and maybe the last time they leave China. He wants to see the whole world before he dies, but her heart longs for home. A Chinese daughter, the director, decides to use a digital stills camera’s movie function to record her old parents’ journey. The film portrays a philosophical journey, going through cultural conflicts, love relationship, memories of personal histories, shadows of the turmoil of China’s past, glimpses of the weight of two individuals in a global environment. As ancient Taoist master Lao Tzu said: \”The further you go, the less you understand.\” This visual poem is like an abstract Chinese ink painting, drawing traces of two people’s interior life.


Heart of a Mountain
Parastoo Anoushahpour, Faraz Anoushahpour, Ryan Ferko
2017 I Taiwan I 15 min

“The word island is a bird inside of a mountain”, explains the hand.
A photograph of a volcanic stone slice from the east coast of Taiwan, famous for its landscape-like patterns created by minerals and geological pressure; a snapshot of a “Capitoline Wolf” replica sculpture, a symbolic gift from an Italian ambassador to Chiang Kai-shek after he fled Mainland China for the island of Taiwan; Heart of a Mountain forms in the area between these objects whose stories are encoded as images. Technologies of translation form sentences that reach towards understanding, guiding a film that binds together human history and geological time in the obscure space that separates languages.

Life Imitation
Chen Zhou
2017 I China | 82min

Chatroom threads, sexting and futuristic Grand Theft Auto scenes reveal the loneliness of Chinese kids.
Life Imitation, the first non-fiction feature film by Chinese video artist Chen Zhou, combines real life with a virtual computer game. Along with the game, in which a female killer wanders the streets of Los Angeles on a dark night, we see different episodes of young people’s lives in Shanghai, revealing the way they carry out their social roles in this metropolis and how they deal with ubiquitous screens and new technology. How do they relate to others in this hyper-mediated world, and how expansive is their loneliness?
Diverse responses to issues about society, sex, art and anxiety from primarily young women in China determine the hypnotic, dreamlike rhythm of the film.


The Delmarva Chicken of Tomorrow
Andrea Luka Zimmerman, Vision Machine
2002 I UK I 15 mins

The Delmarva Chicken of Tomorrow is a film that dream-walks from the beaches of Mirtsdroy, where huge tourists, plucked and oiled, baste themselves standing up, to the muddy markets of Sumatra, via an archipelago of Export-Processing zones and television archives. Hand processed with bacterially cultured stock, the images are themselves in organic decay; all the colours and forms of the scrap heap. Between dream and nightmare, The Delmarva Chicken of Tomorrow is a traversal of here and elsewhere, first and third world; a fairytale of production, resources, capitalism, globalisation, refuse and refusal: The Delmarva Chicken of Tomorrow is a film not about the struggle to be seen, but about the struggle to see.’

Mother Dao The Turtlelike
Vincent Monnikendam
1995, Netherlands, 90mins

A compilation of clips from documentaries and propaganda films shot by Dutch cameramen between 1912 and 1932 in their former colony of Indonesia, Vincent Monnikendam’s masterpiece of found-footage documentary contrasts the lives of wealthy colonial rulers, who issue orders while clad in immaculately white outfits, with the hopeless situation of the native people, victims of brutal economic exploitation. West of Sumatra, the islanders of Nias tell of Earth’s creator Mother Dao, the ever rejuvenating, the turtlelike, whose immaculate conception first begat man and woman. Taking this as inspiration for his use of dialectical techniques, Monnikendam uses a soundtrack of indigenous music and recited poetry as a sharp counterpoint to the abundant images of hardship, squalor and oppression. Susan Sontag praised Mother Dao as “a film that is both a searing reflection on the ravages of colonialism and a noble work of art.”