Letters from Lockdown #7: Lili Hering
In her response, Lili talks Miranda July, moving into movies and focusing on the details...
Hello lovely friends,
what a ride to read your thoughts! Thank you for sharing all this, I’m wondering why we’re only discovering this format by the end of the year - love it. My film list is growing thanks to your picks. I can relate to so many of your words and feelings: from weariness due to excessive screen time to tearing up while watching Babyteeth, to feeling all-over-the-place (whilst being in a single space most of the time) to having had lots of time (too much? not enough?) for introspection and reflection on the changes the year has brought. And I very closely relate to the specific festival/adventure nostalgia that goes deeper this year, taking the form of things I’ve never missed before, queues, crowds, even strangers' bodies, and especially coincidences.
I didn’t watch so many films this year, but I did manage to go to the cinema a few times when they opened between June and October (a period that feels about two weeks long and ages ago). The first film I saw on a big screen after cinemas had been shut for a few months was Shining – I didn’t care about the movie – it played outdoors right behind Potsdamer Platz, I guess you can imagine the Berlinale reminiscence that unfolded. The memory of that open-air screening brings back another summer evening: In August, a small art festival next to a lake in the north of Berlin screened Born in Flames by Lizzie Borden, a great feminist sci-fi doc, something like that, in which a few of the protagonists operate a radio station going by the amazing name Radio Ragazza.
When I got to write about Kajillionaire this autumn, I was already fond of the things Miranda July does (and I remember sending you guys the link to her blog work 'Learning To Love You More' during the first lockdown, as I still find it to be a very soothing pastime). One image she created stuck with me for a while – pink foam leaking through the walls of a bubble factory, for a family of con artists to be collected in buckets as one of their many side jobs. The song playing in the last scene stuck with me as well: "Mr. Lonely“ in a version by Angel Olsen that I mostly listened to while biking through town when my love was away (why not add some pathos to the situation, I thought). I got quite hooked on the soundtrack of another film, the last I saw in cinemas before they closed again in November over here: I was not only amazed by Ema’s music, but by the dancing, the outfits, the sex, fire, landscapes, hairstyles and moves. For a few days, I wished it would be possible to move into a film. I’d definitely consider moving to The Metamorphosis of Birds too. It would be an unfamiliar home for me, unlike for you maybe, Rodrigo, but one that I’d happily explore, and there’d be so much to look into, the colors and paintings, the soft voices in the house and the burnt letters in the garden.
I wanted to keep this short, but I’ll add: Sadia, what a lovely surprise to see three films we programmed at the Arab Film Festival (that would originally have happened in April) in your list. Out of my picks, Ala Eddine Slim’s Tlamess (actually from last year, I think) is a daring portrait of two escapees and their uncanny encounter in the midst of the woods: A deserted soldier and a pregnant upper-class housewife become companions, communicating only with their eyes. It’s eerie, and a bit magical.
What I’m only just noticing, writing to you, is that I apparently find it easier at the moment to look at details in film than at the whole picture. As befits my current situation and mood, focusing on small steps is the way to go for me, while trying to have an overview (be it about films screening, the pandemic in general or simply my own life) gets much more complicated. I’m so looking forward to some sort of future with plans, projections, places to go and things taking place.
And when things will take place again, we’ll save you a seat, Adina. And if I’m late, please save one for me too.
Sending lots of love, looking forward to meeting you again in the near or far, but definitely in some future,
Bisous,
Lili
