Review: Yours, – BFMAF 2024

Yours, is a collegiate undertaking, a collection of five short films by five Belgian filmmakers in response to renowned Belgian filmmaker Chantal Akerman’s News from Home (1976). The first question to ask of this UK Premiere at BFMAF 2024 is, does Yours, stand up in isolation, or is familiarity with its inspiration a prerequisite?

The answer lies somewhere in-between – how apt for a project born of the avant-garde. The quintet opens with Eva Giolo’s Stone, Hat, Ribbon and Rose, a quiet study of a grey Brussels, from early morning and through the day. Shot in a wonderfully atmospheric 16mm, the cityscapes are quietly arresting, the journeys onto quiet metro platforms, and unoccupied swimming pools inviting questions, not least, ‘Where is everybody?’

Contrasting with the city’s stillness, Giolo intersperses vignettes of herself in a sky-blue studio, interacting with various objects, including a toy car, an inflatable pool ring, and a plant. She seems to be providing the interactive life absent from the footage, with an undeniably playful sensibility. Those unfamiliar with Akerman’s work may be correctly prompted to think it concerned with urban landscapes and life’s absurdities.

“Shot in a wonderfully atmospheric 16mm, the cityscapes are quietly arresting…”

Next, Yours, presents Rebecca Jane Arthur’s Barefoot Birthdays on Unbreakable Glass. Here, the filmmaker seems to spend time with three other female artists in isolation, before assembling them for a party. Amidst talk of dance, horticulture, illustration, immigration and baking, each woman is prompted to speak of their mother.

Though the film speaks honestly of an often fraught, and always complex relationship, there’s a distinct kindness threaded through this short. Each artist, for example, recalls a gift from their mother, be it a word of advice, or a physical token of appreciation. Loss, regret, and delayed appreciation are woven throughout, and it only seems right that such honest exposition be rewarded with pizza and cake. Those unfamiliar with Akerman’s work may be correctly prompted to think it concerned with relationships with one’s mother.

In the middle, to get the golden fiddle (as my Grandmother used to say), we have Katja Mater’s When Things Fall Apart. This is comfortably the most abstract of the five offerings. One on hand, there’s a close-up ‘real along’ of enigmatic pieces of advice sketched in pencil such as ‘You can be flowing in time’. On the other, there are baffling visuals consisting of stars, planets and other, presumably celestial, objects rendered in multiple exposures of differing skies. Imagine a primary-school kid drawing a picture of Saturn, rings included, before ‘filling it in’ with different textures of sky, and you’ll be quite close. Unfortunately, the unquestionable technical accomplishments of this piece aren’t matched by the profundity of its contribution to Yours,

Those unfamiliar with Akerman’s work, prompted to think News from Home was concerned with astrology or spiritual self-help, might find it a bum-steer.

“…the unquestionable technical accomplishments of this piece aren’t matched by the profundity of its contribution…”

Penultimately, Un Âne from Sirah Foighel Brutmann and Eitan Efrat, is far more grounded in place and time. Explicitly responding to another of Akerman’s works, No Home Movie, they present footage of the Negev desert in Israel. Where Akerman had featured this locale as a generic, unidentified desert to contrast with her urban Brussels abode, Un Âne considers continued anonymity unacceptable.

In a letter, written to Akerman, they outline their thesis of a land blighted by climate change and the ethnic cleansing of Palestinian Bedouins. Amidst the beauty Chantal found, they point to a scourge, and a solitary white donkey wandering the expanse. Is it, they wonder, the spirit of Akerman, or only an animal with which to discuss her absence?

Those unfamiliar with Akerman’s work prompted to think it silent on, or even hostile to, the Palestinian plight might find further reading of interest. This short is certainly the spikiest of the five, and so bravo to the filmmakers and their honest convictions.

The finale of Yours, is left to The possibility of being sea by Maaike Neuville, a piece explicitly focussed on Neuville’s relationships with her child, and her departed mother. Whilst there’s plenty of joy in the fun and games shared by mother and kid, it’s not entirely clear what it’s trying to say about the creator’s grieving process. Washed-out film overlayed with disembodied text hints at some form of artistic seance, before the film ends on a deliciously sparkling seascape.

Those unfamiliar with Akerman’s work, however, prompted to think it highly concerned with a dead parent will find their suspicions swiftly confirmed. So in that respect, The possibility of being sea is certainly an apt member of the Yours, quintet.

Ultimately, Yours, is an ambitious undertaking, and on the whole, a successful one. Whether or not the five pieces contained benefit from their collation is hard to say. Certainly, it’s proof that female Belgian filmmaking is alive and well and that Akerman’s influence persists to the present day. However, there’s a lack of synergy between Yours, components needed to make it a truly singular work. It remains a very pleasant sum of its parts, nonetheless.

Featured Image: Stills provided by the Artists via BFMAF.

Andrea Cinel & Kunstencentrum Nona are the producers of Yours,