AB: When did you start making music?

LCR: I was in elementary school, and I had this one teacher who would bring his guitar to class and teach us poems through music. He put them into song because it was easier for us to remember. At the time I was already writing poems, but this was huge for me because I realized I could make my own songs.

AB: So where did you grow up?

LCR: I was born in France. When I was nine years old I moved to Niger for three years and then back to France for three years. Then I did my last three years of high school in Washington.

AB: What’s it like moving around that much?

LCR: It’s weird. Like I’m in Canada, but I’m not Canadian, but I don’t feel French either. I don’t feel like I belong anywhere. Because I’ve lived in so many countries, I always wonder why countries exist, it just doesn’t seem to make too much sense.

Making music that makes sense

AB: How did you get started making hip hop music?

LCR: I don’t really know. That was the type of music that I was into at the time and I could relate to. Hip hop is for people who look like me and who don’t really have a voice. I just connected with the music. I was in a rock band at one point, but that’s expensive. You have to pay for the instruments, rehearsal space, and at some point I didn’t have resources to keep going. But with hip hop, you really only need a computer and you’re good.

AB: Can you tell me a little about your music? And about Gender F*ckboi?

LCR: I like to describe it as trap-infused soul music. I love mixing the sounds. Gender F*ckboi is an album about me, really. 2017 was a rough year for me and Gender F*ckboi were the songs I wrote that year. For me, it’s almost like a journal. When I’m writing music like that, most of the time I’m not really thinking about the lyrics that are coming out. It’s just coming out. I’m learning about myself in the process. That’s why I called it Gender F*ckboi. First of all, being a Black masculine person, you’re seen as misogynistic, as oppressive. You don’t have to do anything; you’re just automatically seen like that. And I’m trying to redefine Black masculinity as well with this album.

It’s a political life

AB: What does your work aim to say and how does it comment on social and political issues?

LCR: I’m just trying to be heard. People don’t really listen to us trans people. But at the same time, I don’t want people to see me exclusively as a trans artist. I’m an artist who happens to be trans. So my music is just about the things that I’m experiencing and people call it political because my life is political. It’s a political opinion to decide whether or not I should be allowed to live. I’m just trying to survive in this world.

AB: Your work also brings attention to the Black community, the trans community, and the Black trans community. So in that context what does visibility mean to you? Are there any negative consequences to that visibility?

LCR: Yeah, of course. If people see you, but don’t see you the way you want to be seen, then that visibility isn’t helpful. It’s fine to have trans people on TV and all but then if you’re not showing anything beyond the fact that this character or person needs surgery, then you’re just objectifying their bodies. Visibility then also relates to who is in power and in control of the narrative. If trans people are in control of their own narrative, then that’s the only visibility that is actually helpful. But that also comes at a price, because the more visible you are when you’re different, the more haters and death threats you get, which unfortunately, is really common.

AB: You helped to establish Trans Trenderz–what is it? What do you hope to do through it?

LCR: It’s a non-profit record label for trans artists. We want to release music that’s available for free. So if you don’t have enough money to buy the CD, you can download the music online for free. We also help other artists release their own music. We’re not like other labels where we tell the artists to pay us back the money it took to produce their music. I wanted to create a system that protects the artist and where there isn’t the pressure to be making money afterwards. I’m also working on developing the website so that there is a forum for trans people who make music and people who want to work with them to connect and learn more about each other. I’m trying to build a community because I really believe that music can change the world, especially when I see people like Rihanna, who [attended a conference on education with the French President Emmanuel Macron]. People who make music have so much potential to change the world. Trans people, we haven’t really used that avenue yet. My goal is to build up this community and empower each other.

AB: It makes sense that the artists are protected, but why the focus on making the music free?

LCR: Because being a trans person costs a lot of money, we can’t always afford CDs and music and going to shows. I also wanted to be able to have a platform where trans people can go and listen to music that’s made by people that have the same experiences.

AB: What do you think the artist’s responsibility is to their audience?

LCR: When you’re an artist, you have to keep in mind that without your audience you’re nothing. For me, the responsibility is being true to yourself. You don’t want to become a crook, or advertise violence or things that could hurt your audience. You have to be respectful to the people who listen to you. But you also have to be genuine in what you do. It’s a professional relationship between the artist and the audience; at a show the audience is essentially hiring you, so you need to respect that. At the same time, the audience needs to respect the artist’s private life, and too often people just don’t. Just because I make music and I talk about falling in love, that doesn’t mean you can come into my private life and sneak around. Respecting those boundaries is just so important.

This moment in music

AB: Okay, so let’s move on to music more broadly. What does this moment in music mean for artists of colour?

LCR: Hip-hop is the most salient music genre right now. As a result, it feels like a matter of time before it becomes a white dominated genre. When you see people like Post Malone it feels more that way. Even back when Eminem was starting off, it wasn’t like everyone said ‘you’re white, you don’t belong here.’ Everyone was praising him, even though he is lowkey mediocre. He doesn’t challenge anything, but he’s still making so much money. It’s great that hip hop has this huge visibility, but it’s so mainstream now. It’s become a matter of keeping hip hop in its rawest form — using it to give voice to marginalized people. When I say marginalized I mean people who aren’t represented in the music industry. People who you don’t see when you watch music videos or t.v. shows. Black people are still marginalized. We’re still marginalized within the music industry. It’s not like Nicki Minaj doesn’t experience racism just because she’s making money. It’s just a matter of different privileges.

AB: What is your response to the claim that mainstream hip hop is filled with misogyny and homophobia?

LCR: I think it’s racist. Black people aren’t more misogynistic or homophobic than other people. If you listen to pop music right now it’s actually a lot worse. If a Black artist is singing about going to a strip club, everybody thinks it’s misogynistic. But how is it misogynistic? Is it misogynistic to give money to a stripper? Of course it’s not. You’re supporting local businesses and hip hop is a genre that embraces sex work in a way that others just don’t. There are a lot of songs that are categorized as being misogynistic because it’s just Black people talking about sex. For example, there is a song by YG, about going to a strip club and bringing a girl home. But he says that he still calls her the next day and respects her. So you have to think about how white people see us. There is work to be done sure, but one of the biggest problems in hip hop right now is that it’s white people who own the majority of the labels. So the narrative is not one of liberation. When you’re a white person and you own a record label, Black people are your puppets. You decide what comes out of that label. For me, when somebody says that hip hop is misogynistic or transphobic or discriminatory, I want them to criticize what they’re listening to first. Especially when it comes to the actual language being used. You have to be aware of the context in which the words are being used.

AB: How do you go about trying to challenge this narrative that Black masculinity is fundamentally oppressive?

LCR: I talk a lot about Black trans men. Sometimes people will look at me and think, well, now you have male privilege, but that’s not really how privilege works. Cis men, when they look at me, don’t see someone who looks like them. They’re still violent towards my body. Trans people are often seen to be transitioning to please cis-male sexuality. The trans male privilege is conditional. I have it if I’m walking down the street, but as soon as I pull out my papers it disappears. As soon as people recognize me on the street, I’m outed. And it’s important to remember that when we’re talking about male privilege, we’re talking about white male privilege. Because does Black male privilege really exist? Is it really a privilege in most situations? That’s what’s going to get you shot. So I’m hoping that the way that I express my masculinity can help cis men as well.

Tuning in to different narratives

AB: What does being an ally look like to you?

LCR: Imagine that you’re at Madison Square Garden, and it’s completely sold out and people are there to watch you perform. But you don’t have a microphone. You’re try to sing louder and louder until eventually your voice breaks. You keep singing, but after a while you’re tired and it doesn’t even matter that people are leaving and you’re singing only to one person now. You can’t even do that now because your voice is just gone. Your message doesn’t get across. All you needed was a microphone. That’s what an ally is. An ally is there to amplify your voice. To make your life easier when you’re trying to get your message out there. But when you’re not performing, it’s turned off. It doesn’t have a role.

AB: If you could pick one accomplishment that you’re most proud of, what would it be?

LCR: I think just the fact that I’m still making music. Because it’s really not easy. I’m really proud of the fact that I’ve had failures but I’m still going. Others only really see the success, but successful people are the ones who have failed the most.

AB: We’ve talked about a variety of things, but do you have any final thoughts?

LCR: Just that people need to stop focusing on differences and focus more on what makes us alike. What I always tell people is, it’s okay if you don’t understand my life because I don’t understand yours either. I don’t understand what it’s like to not be me. Anything outside my experience, I don’t really understand. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t respect it, or that I can’t relate. And it doesn’t mean that I can’t support it. I have different sets of obstacles sure, but nothing about me is so different that you can’t listen to my music and enjoy and support it. Everybody can benefit from hearing different narratives.

This interview has been significantly edited for clarity and length.

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Relations between North Korea and South Korea remain fragile despite their recent agreement to march under one flag for the opening ceremony of the 2018 Winter Olympics taking place in South Korea from February 9-25. The two Koreas have agreed to compete together in women’s ice hockey in Pyeongchang, announced by the South Korean Unification Ministry.

This is not the first time North and South Korean athletes have marched together. In 2000, the two Koreas marched under the Unification Flag at the Olympic Games in Sydney, Australia, but competed separately. The administration of Moon Jae-in, the incumbent South Korean president, has long supported Korean unification, and hopes to move in that direction by defusing the nuclear threat posed by North Korea. In his New Year’s press conference, Moon said that his goal was to “resolve the North Korean nuclear problem and solidify peace during [his] term.”

However, Moon’s goal of reunification faces challenges. Recently, North Korea cancelled a joint cultural performance event, planned for February 4 in Pyeongchang, after blaming South Korean media for encouraging offensive messages regarding the north. South Koreans’ concerns regarding such challenges are reflected in the 2017 Unification Perception Survey conducted by Seoul National University’s Institute for Peace and Unification Studies; while 53.9 per cent of South Koreans believe reunification is necessary, only 24.7 per cent believe unification is possible.

In addition to the animosity from North Korea, the unified inter-Korean women’s hockey team at the Pyeongchang Olympics has sparked controversy, with over 47,000 signatures signed in a petition against the team to the Blue House. Meanwhile, President Moon Jae-In’s approval rating is below 60 per cent for the first time since he took office in 2017. Issues such as the joint hockey team, and mandatory military enlistments have proven to be a sensitive issue among the younger generation, which may reflect on the survey results.

Shooting in Calais leaves four teenage migrants in critical condition

At least 18 migrants have been left injured following violent clashes in a migrant camp near the port city of Calais, in northern France, on Friday February 3. Four of the migrants, aged 16 to 18, are in critical condition. This week’s brawl represents ostensibly the worst violence in migrant camps since clashes in July 2017, which wounded 16 migrants. Clashes from the previous year, in June 2016, injured at least 40 people. Police reinforcements have been sent in response to the heightened tensions, a decision many local and international observers say will do little to solve such tensions.

Human rights workers in the country have asserted that the French government has imposed tougher attitudes towards migrants. Meanwhile, migrants’ chances of reaching Britain, the final destination for most asylum seekers in Calais, are reaching new lows. Four days prior to the attack, Theresa May pledged an extra £44.5 million to strengthen border security in the area.

Calais notably gained international repute in October 2016 with the French police’s dismantling of an area known dimunitively as “The Jungle,” a refugee encampment in the city which was once home to between 6,000 and 10,000 people before the dismantlement.

“Under no circumstances will we allow the Jungle to come back,” President Macron said in early January of 2018. Since his acceding the presidency, Macron has ramped up expulsions, put pressure on economic migrants, and allowed for divisive ID checks in emergency shelters. Now a mere 500 to 800 migrants remain in Calais.

Reports by Human Rights Watch denounced the scope of police brutality in the encampments, where there is frequent use of pepper sprays, daily identity checks, confiscation of items, and harassment with provocation. The conditions in Calais have been described as “inhumane living conditions” for asylum seekers, due to degrading treatment and disruption of humanitarian aid.

Written with material from the NY Times, BBC, ABC, and The Telegraph.

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Nuuca

The screened films focused on portraying Indigenous women and their experiences. The night began with Nuuca by Michelle Latimer, which elaborated on the relation between violence committed against Indigenous women and the exploitation of land by resource extraction industries near the Fort Berthold Reservation in North Dakota. The film oscillates between scenes of picturesque beauty and disturbing images of crude oil extraction sites. A powerful voice-over provided by a young Indigenous woman exposes some of the horrors — abuse, rape, and murder — that are commonly committed against the women in her community. She states, “just as the land is being used, these women are being used.”

The Mandan, Hidatas and Arikara tribes (the MHA Nation) of the Fort Berthold Reservation are located near a major fracking site — the Bakken oil patch. Unlike other nations, the MHA Nation have found prosperity in the oil industry. However, the growing industry in the area attracts male workers who perpetrate violence against Indigenous women on a regular basis. Latimer exposes the systemic and systematic abuse of Indigenous women in this thought-provoking and heart shattering film.

The Violation of a Civilization Without Secrets

In 1996, a prehistoric skull was accidentaly discovered on the banks of the Columbia River, in Kennewick, Washington. This discovery gave Adam Khalil, Zack Khalil and Jackson Poly, directors of the movie The Violation of a Civilization Without Secrets, the chance to expose the ways Indigenous oral histories have historically been disregarded as proof because they do not meet Western systems of evidence, Western epistemologies.

The Umatilla tribe of the Columbia Basin argued that the skull belonged to their ancestor, referencing a long tradition of oral history that traces their ancestors to the region, and demanded the return of the remains for reburial under the federal Native Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA). Nevertheless, forensic anthropologists, such as Douglas Owsley, contested their claims, arguing that the Kennewick Man (the name of the skull they discovered) could not possibly be an ancestor of the Umatilla people due to the inconsistencies between the bone structures of the 9,000-year-old skull and present day Umatilla.

The Kennewick Man, was only buried in 2017 according to Umatilla customs after advanced DNA sequencing technologies were able to confirm Indigenous oral history. The three filmmakers shine a light on the treatment of Indigenous oral history in this brief but alarming documentary.

Ohero-Kon : Under the Husk

Katsitsionni Fox shifted the attention back to Indigenous women and their experiences with culture, femininity, and adulthood in her heartfelt and moving short film, Ohero-Kon: Under the Husk.

Kaienkwinehtha and Kasennakohe are childhood friends from traditional families living in Akwesasne, a Mohawk Nation territory that straddles the Canada-U.S. border. The two partake in four-year rites of passage ceremony called Ohero-Kon that has been revived in their community. The ceremony is meant to challenge them spiritually, emotionally, and physically, shaping them into the women they will become.

Fox offers a refreshing perspective that depicts the power and agency of Indigenous women. Rather than depicting Indigenous women as victims of violence and systemic abuse (which are issues that Indigenous women still experience), Ohero-Kon leaves the audience excited for the colourful future of these two young women.

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Demonstrations in Tunisia began on Sunday January after the government announced an increase in value-added tax and social contributions, while also increasing prices of consumer goods to cut their budget deficit. The austerity measures were made in response to the International Monetary Fund (IMF)’s call to the Tunisian government to take “urgent action and decisive measures” to reduce its deficit late 2016. Tunisia is currently in a four year loan program with the IMF tied to economic and social reforms worth around $2.8 billion. Protesters have taken to the streets to rally in at least 10 different areas.

January 7th was also the seventh anniversary of the the ousting of autocratic President Zine Al-Abidine Ben Ali, While the protests were started by the 2018 Finance Act, protesters argue that economic and social conditions since since Ben Ali’s deposition have not improved, prompting public discontent

The government accused demonstrators of sabotaging and setting fire to police cars, while other protesters tried to take over stores and blocked roads. Over 800 people had been arrested so far on suspicions of violence and vandalism, including young protesters aged 15 to 20Demonstrators accused police of a violent crackdown. While the Tunisian Interior Ministry mentioned that 97 members of security force members have been injured as of January 14th, the statement failed to include how many protesters had been hurt.

In response to the protests, the Tunisian government is to increase welfare payments and support for poor families by 170 million Tunisian dinars, or $87.3 million CAD. Mohamed Trabelsi, minister of social affairs told reporters, “this will concern about 250,000 families.”

Current President Beji Caid Essebsi visited the Tunis district of Ettadhamen , opening a youth centre in the area. Youth in Ettadhamen have been in clash with the police since the anti-austerity protests. Eddebsi’s speech promised to address youth unemployment, which stands at more than 35% according to the UN International Labour Organization. “We feel for you, these are our families,” he said. “Be modest, your country does not have a lot of means.”

However, meeting adequate living conditions remain a concern as prices of basic goods such as food products are rising by more than 10% annually.

Written with material from CNN news, Al Jazeera, Gulf news, and the Telegraph

Update on Myanmar

The violence that erupted over five months ago in the western Rakhine state of Myanmar, leading to the migration of over 650,000 ethnic Rohingya to Bangladesh, may finally have an end in sight as the Myanmar and Bangladesh governments have arranged for the return of these refugees to their homes.

Although the Rohingya have been heavily persecuted in Myanmar for decades, the current violence can be traced back to the state of emergency declared in Rakhine in 2012, which allowed military control in the province. Tensions between the military and the Rohingya resulted in Rohingya militants attacking government forces in August of 2017. In response, security forces launched an attack, described by the UN as ethnic cleansing, that killed over 6,000 in the first month alone. Many Rohingya fled to Bangladesh in response to the violence. However, in an agreement on Tuesday, January 15, Myanmar and Bangladesh provided details regarding the repatriation deal signed in November 2017. The repatriation of Rohingya refugees in Bangladesh will begin as early as next week, and will be carried out over the next two years.

The United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) will be assisting Bangladesh and Myanmar with the repatriation process, but urges the governments to ensure the voluntary return of the Rohingya minority to their homes. International aid organizations such as Amnesty International have raised concerns about the repatriation, claiming that the return of the Rohingya is “premature” due to the “years of entrenched discrimination and abuse.” The organization stressed the importance of international protection for the Rohingya in the process, “the Rohingya have an absolute right to return to and reside in Myanmar, but there must be no rush to return people to a system of apartheid. Any forcible returns would be a violation of international law.”

One of the major challenges to repatriation is the lack of accountability within the Myanmar government. The incumbent State Chancellor of Myanmar Aung San Suu Kyi has failed to condemn the violence against the Rohingya. Regarding the military-led ethnic cleansing, Suu Kyi has disputed the UN’s characterization of the violence.

In addition to the failure of the Myanmese leaders to address the persecution of the Rohingya people, the repatriation plan will result in them being transferred from refugee camps in Bangladesh to camps in Myanmar, as their homes were burned down when they were forced to flee. As a result, those who opt to return will effectively be living in a limbo state until the Myanmar government develops a concrete plan to relocate them.

At this critical juncture the government will have to develop additional social programs to integrate the Rohingya into Myanmese society to prevent the situation from deteriorating into violence once more.

Written with material from CNN news, Al Jazeera, Gulf news, and the Telegraph

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During a period known as the Sixties Scoop, the Canadian government forcibly removed Indigenous children from their homes and gave them to a neglectful child welfare system to be adopted into white families. The policy was similar to the assimilationist agenda of residential schools — both intended to separate Indigenous children from their cultures. The Sixties Scoop remained in effect from 1955 to 1985, affecting upwards of 20,000 children. Encompassed in these 20,000 children taken from their homes are Betty Ann, Esther, Rosalie, and Ben, all of whom were forcibly removed from their Dene mother Mary-Jane’s (MJ) care in northern Saskatchewan and placed in different foster homes across the country.

In Birth of a Family, director Tasha Hubbard reveals an honest and deeply moving account of MJ’s children as they trace their family history and learn more about one another. Starting with the siblings’ first nervous encounter at the Calgary airport after decades of searching for each other, the film follows the four as they travel to Banff for a week of bonding.

While exploring the scenic Albertan town, the siblings visit a local elder at the Buffalo Nations Luxton Museum who teaches them some of the traditions they would have learned had they been raised within their culture. After experiencing their first drum circle, Betty Ann and her younger siblings are overcome with sadness at all that had been kept from them, shedding light on the systematized foreignization of Indigenous culture and language from Indigenous children.

Birth of a Family disrupts the myth that Indigenous children were better off growing up away from their families, languages, and cultures, a belief commonly perpetuated in colonial society. Hubbard opens the viewers to the agonizing experiences that many Indigenous people had and continue to endure.

The director strikes a perfect balance between representing the pain of a family separated and the joy of one recently united. She includes precious moments such as the celebration of the collective 211 birthdays they had missed out on, emphasizing the positive outlook these four had despite the violence of Canadian policies. The poignant moments are paired with the hilarity that often characterizes family vacations, such as when Ben, a grown man in his fifties, learns he has a fear of heights while walking, and then crawling, on the Glacier Skywalk.

Birth of a Family disrupts the myth that Indigenous children were better off growing up away from their families, languages, and cultures, a belief commonly perpetuated in colonial society.

Despite these playful interludes, the film constantly circles back to the heartbreak felt by the four from having been removed from each other’s lives. In a particularly heart-wrenching moment, Esther asks, “Why did some people get left behind and others get taken?” The siblings then address the failure of the Canadian government to protect Indigenous people and the continued lack of support for the survivors of these atrocities. The conversation inevitably steers towards a heated debate over truth and reconciliation, as MJ’s children discuss the emptiness of a simple apology for the crimes committed by the colonial settler government. They note that the politics of recognition have done little in substantive action to improve the material conditions of Indigenous people and their relationship with the Canadian state.

Despite its heartbreaking origins, Birth of a Family manages to carry a hopeful tone. Even when Rose and Betty Ann discover that they had once lived only 15 miles away from each other in different foster homes, Rose laughingly remarks that those 15 miles have been reduced to 15 inches after forty years, and further lessens the distance as she reaches across the table to embrace her older sister.

Birth of a Family, with its picturesque backdrop, is ultimately a story of two very different Canadas. First, there is a land of romanticized beauty, full of snow-capped mountains and touristy towns, and then there is a country with a dark colonial history it has yet to overcome. Hubbard effortlessly merges these two distinct visions of Canada as the siblings all at once explore Banff, the pain of separation, and the joy of reunion with one another.

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This year includes a wide variety of pieces, ranging from short to feature length films, including both fiction and non-fiction. Focussing on South Asian stories and art, the festival provides an opportunity to encounter perspectives underrepresented in Western culture.

In addition to the many films being screened over the two weekends of the festival, there has been panel discussions with professors and filmmakers including Rock Demers, Ali Kazimi, and Padmakumar Narasimhamurthy that have provided additional insights into these stories.

Manto

The festival opened with the screening of a scene from an upcoming Hindi language film written and directed by Nandita Das, Manto. The film chronicles the life of Saadat Hasan Manto, an Indo-Pakistani author, journalist and essayist, with Nawazuddin Siddiqui playing the titular role. The scene itself was initially released as a short film, In Defense of Freedom, and is truly spectacular — even as a standalone piece. Set in a classroom, Manto gives a lecture on the importance of free speech in a democracy. In a white kurta and black rimmed glasses, pacing across the classroom, Siddiqui delivers a powerful message on the importance of being critical of society despite the backlash one might face. The scene perfectly summarizes Manto’s beliefs on the importance of literature and the freedom of expression, which is a recurring theme in his works.

Manto wrote in the time immediately before and after the partition of India and Pakistan and addressed ethnic and religious tensions between and within the two countries. Those issues continue to be relevant, not just in India and Pakistan but all around the world. Das’s biopic is particularly poignant today, when our right to expression is being infringed on by various social institutions.

Cinema Travellers

The highlight of opening night was the screening of Shirley Abraham and Amit Madheshiya’s astonishing documentary, Cinema Travellers. The film explores the legacy of India’s tent travelling cinemas that have delivered movies to rural communities for the better part of seven decades. It also highlights the slow obsolescence of the projector and film reels by following two caravan cinemas that roam around Maharashtra in rust-covered trucks, struggling to keep their operations running in the face of the slow but steady proliferation of technologies that threaten to replace them.

Over the the film’s 90 minute duration, we meet Mohammad and Bapu, the leaders of the two travelling tent cinemas and a beguiling projector repairman in his seventies, Prakash. The three of them are inspired to engage in cinema this way after experiencing the magic of movies in their childhood.

Cinema Travellers, begins in the heart of a Maharashtrian town during a religious festival. The colour and the noise of the scene are overwhelming, but the hustle and bustle of the town fades as the camera reaches the entrance of the cinema tent, where a sign promises to show you “movies that touch your soul”. The power of cinema is explored through the reactions of the cine-goers in the tent as the film is filled with Madheshiya’s photos of the audience. There are pictures of children with wide smiles watching blockbuster films on the big screen, as well as elderly folks enjoying their favourite films. Even among the many emotionally evocative moments throughout the films, Madheshiya’s photography stands out.

The film contains a handful of bittersweet moments as the old crumbling projectors are finally replaced by modern equipment. Ironically, the film is shot in a digital format and is projected in the same way, attesting to the fact that we can simultaneously appreciate the past while paving a way for the future.

The film evokes a sense of hopefulness, but where are the women? Throughout the film we follow the lives of the men who participate in the travelling cinema, but aside from a few women patrons at the beginning of the film it would seem as though women simply are not a part of this cinematic tradition — which seems highly unlikely. There are certainly women-only cinematic associations in India like the Women in Cinema Collective, but they are not represented in the film at all.

Nonetheless, Cinema Travellers is an ode to the enduring power of cinema. More than 120 years after its birth, cinema retains its power to amaze its spectators. Abraham and Madheshiya pay tribute to the magicians that keep the magic of cinema alive even in the most remote parts of the country. It’s a tribute to India’s cinematic caravan tradition and the disappearing art of 35mm projection. More generally, it’s a portrait of a past being replaced by a supposedly brighter future, and how not everyone is equipped to face such change.

A Billion Colour Story

Amongst the many films screened thus far, one that stands out is Padmakumar Narasimhamurthy’s directorial debut, A Billion Colour Story. Tracing the live of 11-year Hari Aziz, Narasimhamurthy explores the Hindu-Muslim tensions in present-day India.

Hari learns of the social realities that plague his country and challenge his family’s existence. Driven from their house due to financial hardships, Hari’s parents – a Hindu woman and a Muslim man, neither one particularly observant of religion – face religious intolerance from both communities. The family bounces around from one apartment complex to another, after being confronted by their landlords due to their religious beliefs.

Through black and white, Narasimhamurthy wants to convey the ways in which Hari is unaware of the abstract differences that have been drawn between communities. In a question answer period after the film, Narasimhamurthy explains that “it is a film about colour, and I wanted it be in black and white so that people could imagine the colour.” During a particularly poignant scene in the film, Hari’s maternal grandmother asks him to change his kurta because he’s wearing “a very Muslim colour.” The point then, to Narasimhamurthy, is to the face the ways we see and experience the world and challenge the very prejudices that shape our worldview.

Despite the overall hopefulness of the film, at times the dialogue is excessively dramatic, making one squirm in their seat from second-hand embarrassment for the actors. Furthermore, the film certainly required another round of editing as there are unnecessarily long montages that don’t actually contribute to the progression of the film nor do they provide insight into the character’s state of mind.

However, for a first film and a tight budget, Narasimhamurthy does a great job of drawing our attention to the senseless divisions between peoples. Although the film depicts the relations between Hindus and Muslims in India, his message is equally relevant for societies all over the world.

A wide variety of thought-provoking and heartwarming films brought the experiences of South Asian people all over the globe. Although there has been a focus on Hindi language films, the SAFF organizers included films that represented Bengali, Nepali, Marathi, Tamil and Urdu languages as well. However, widely spoken languages such as Telegu, Punjabi and Gujarati were left out entirely.

Nonetheless, the festival provided an opportunity to explore perspectives that generally tend to be excluded from popular discourse, films that would never be screened in a large Cineplex.

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