Copa 71

So you’ve never heard of the 1971 World Cup in Mexico? You never saw the images on the big final with the Azteca stadium packed with 110,000 energetic football fans? You have no idea who Susana Augustesen is? Don’t worry if the answers to all of these questions are “no”. You are not alone. Not even two-time Fifa Women’s World Cup champion Brandi Chastain had ever heard of such tournament, which had been relegated to the dark basement of forgotten history for five decades. The American player is shocked and nearly moved to tears when she sees the images of the boisterous crowds cheering female players long before she dreamt of becoming a footballer (or “soccer player”, in the local vernacular),.

Most people think that the first Women’s World Cup took place in 1991. This enlightening and impeccably assembled documentary reveals that women had an intimate relationship with the most popular sport on earth much earlier, and that they were violently removed from the pitch for shocking reasons. British doc Copa 1971 reveals that there were in excess of 100 female football teams in the United Kingdom in 1917, and it was only in 1921 that they were shut following false medical claims that the sport could hurt their ovaries. The absurd, pseudo-scientific claim travelled far, with Italy and Brazil criminalising women who dared to engage in the activity. The patriarchy sent women back to the kitchen in order to bake cookies for their husbands. It mocked and degraded female footballers. A newspaper wrote: “women playing football are like dogs on their hind legs: clumsy yet fascinating”. Its objective was to permanently dissociate wives, mother, sisters and daughters from the sport, and to keep them away from the spotlight. It succeeded for several decades.

Fifa refused to support or even recognise the Women’s World Cup 1971, which was sponsored by Italian multinational Martini & Rossi (the manufacturers of the eponymous alcoholic beverage). Nevertheless, the event was a massive hit, attracting large crowds to the massive stadiums of Mexico. It seemed for a short period of time that a new passion was being born, and that nothing could stop it. The women were at full throttle. The English team was under the command of Captain Carol Wilson. They were devastated when they lost to Argentina. “We did now anticipate their strength”, one of the players bemoans the defeat (does that ring any bells?). Then they are defeated again to Mexico, thereby failing to qualify for the semi-finals. The hosts were very gracious, visiting the English team in their the hotel in order to offer their warm and heartfelt condolences. Their reception in England was a lot colder. Not a single journalist welcomed the girls at the airport. They hang their heads down in shame and fell into complete oblivion for the next half a century, and never played football again.

Despite having the best player in the world, a nimble woman called Elena Schiavo, Italy failed to reach the final. The Mexican hosts played against Denmark in the big face off. Susana Augustesen scored three times for the visiting team,. For a few moments, a deafening silence prevailed. But there was still a reason to celebrate, and the match – played at a fully packed Azteca stadium on September 5th – 1971 ended on a very positive note. The six-figure audience is still the largest in the history of women’s sports.

The joy and elation did not last long, however. Fifa, who wanted to have full control of the world of football, were very concerned about the huge commercial potential of the event. So they found a cruel way of stopping these women on their tracks, with a toxic mixture of lobbying and misogynistic practices. Never underestimate the perversity of the patriarchy. Another peculiar revelation is the fact that the Mexican players were never remunerated, despite the event generating an enormous amount of revenue.

This 90-minute documentary is endearing and rapturing from beginning to end. Archive footage is blended with moving talking heads interviews with the English, Mexican, Italian and Danish players, now in their 70s, as they open up their heart. The spark of pride is still visible in their eyes 50 years later. You can’t help but feel guilty for being unaware of the existence of these national heroines. A lively score helps ti sustain the cohesive narrative. This is a story almost too incredible to be believed. At times, it feels almost like you are watching a fiction feature or a mockumentary. The erasing of these women from history is shocking. Congratulations to British filmmaker Rachel Ramsay and James Erskine for doing them a little justice so many decades later. Credit must also go to the United States, the country that helped put women’s football back in the spotlight. Now Brandi Chastain knows she has some early idols upon whom to look. An international and intergenerational message of sorority.

Copa 71 , which was exec produced by Serena and Venus Williams, shows in the 3rd Red Sea International Film Festival, in Saudi Arabua. It premiered earlier this year at IDFA. The significance of this screening being held in a country where just five years ago women could not drive, and which established their first women’s national football team just last year, must not be understated. In cinemas on Friday, March 6th.

Billie

This is a movie about resuming a job that stopped more than 40 years ago. During the 1970s, journalist Linda Lipnack Kuehl collected information about her late idol Billie Holiday. Until she tragically passed away in February 1978. Both women were American and had a tormented existence, which explained Linda’s fascination with the Philadelphia-born and Baltimore-raised jazz singer Eleanora Fagan, professionally known as Billie Holiday. Just like Billie, Linda was attracted to men who did not bring out the best in her. But they were also very different: Billie was from a black and poor background, while Linda was white and from a wealthy family.

For four decades, nobody listened to Linda’s tapes. Nobody attempted to complete the unfinished job. Until British documentarist James Erskine decided to join the puzzle pieces. There is abundant footage of Billie Holiday as well as extensive interviews conducted by Linda with those who knew her best: her friends and family.

Linda’s own voice provides the backbone to the narrative. Tony Bennet shares peculiar anecdotes, including a very unexpected item that Billie hid in her stockings. Her pimp Monroe boasts giving girls black eyes (which he believed they wore as a token of pride). A cousin and childhood friends share the details of Billie’s unorthodox life and personality.

Billie started working as a prostitute at the age of 13th, which provided her with a sense of practicality and directness that she retained for life. Her language was expletive-laden and confrontational, with “motherfucker” and “cocksucker” being her favourite words. Her fiery temperament and profound emotions were duly transferred onto her songs. She sings many of the big hits throughout the movie, including My Man and a goosebumps-inducing rendition of the controversial Strange Fruit (dubbed “one of the biggest protest songs ever recorded”, about the lynching of black people being compared to fruit hanging from Southern trees).

Race is indeed a pervasive topic, in a racially segregated and openly racist nation. Billie was asked to paint her skin black as she was not deemed dark enough to perform with a black band. Conversely, she encountered problems when travelling with her white crew, having to seek hotels and restaurants for the “colored” – the same issue faced by pianist Don Shirley, as portrayed in last year’s Best Picture Oscar winner Green Book (Peter Farrelly).

Alcohol and drugs became the venting outlet for Billie’s turbulent life. A friend speculates: “narcotics were a type of self-punishment”, “she never experienced real love, she just suffered”. That’s despite having had many partners and describing herself as a “sex machine”. Billie often mixed cocaine with heroin, and dabbled with “assorted pills”. She consequently had many problems with the law, being arrested for the first time in 1947 for narcotics possession. She eventually lost nearly all the fortune she had amassed. She died in 1959 with virtually nothing to her name, despite being one of the best-paid artists of her time. Billie’s addiction seemed to be imprinted in her DNA: her father Clarence too was an alcoholic.

This 97-minute documentary wraps up with Billie Holiday’s final performance in London, shortly before her death. We then learn the details of Linda’s mysterious and untimely death. All in all, a moving tribute to two women who never met and were somehow bonded through their suffering.

Billie will be in selected cinemas in Wales and Scotland and virtual cinema in England from 13th November and available digitally from 16th November on Amazon and iTunes. The film will also be at the EFG London Jazz Festival on 15th November.

The Ice King

Ice skating is a hot topic right now, not just because of the Winter Olympics taking place right now in PyeongChang, but also because of Tonya Harding’s biopic I, Tonya (by Craig Gillespie, also out in cinemas in February 23rd). The Ice King is a different project: it’s the portrait of an extremely talented and deserving champion and his untimely death!

After the interesting 4-part BBC series The Human Face, James Erskine directs this documentary describing the rise to fame and the troubled life of British figure skater John Curry. Through interviews, letters and friends’ testimonies, we explore Curry’s unconditional love for ice skating, and how he was forced to face his inner demons. Curry changed the course of this sport: with his talent, he impressed judges and infused unparalleled artistry into a hitherto mostly technical sport.

After he won first gold during the 1976 Innsbruck Winter Olympics, he became an admired and valued ice-skater. Curry’s story is not only about skating, but a fat more complex psychology. He was the first openly gay Olympian in a historical period that wasn’t particularly supportive of sexual diversity. With a sharp writing and an emotional construction, Erskine uses Curry’s photos and performance footage in order to create an empathic connection between the viewer and the protagonist. John is rebellious in every aspect of his life: he battles against bullying and prejudice, he uses his body as an expression of his art, but also tool for exploration in sex clubs, confronting violence and taboos.

John Curry died at the age of just 44 in 1991, after being diagnosed with HIV. The last part of the movie deals with the difficult period as he grappled with the then lethal disease. Many of his friends were also infected with the virus. This tragic event leads to one of the most poignant moments of the documentary: how he reacted to this profound change.

He decided to spend the last years with his mother, with whom he was able to find again serenity and peace. In the last minutes, through a voice-over, we can hear a touching letter he sent to his friend Cathy: “I am not traumatised, I think, and inside I am peaceful. I love being home again. I have an extraordinary life by any standards. I have met great success and happiness and at times the reverse.” Through a new-found peace, he enjoyed his last years far from the excesses and the spotlight.

All in all, this is a riveting portrait of a cultural icon. It isn’t simply a register a professional career, but also a study of a troubled mind and tormented soul, and how Curry reconciled his personal history with historical events. It is an enjoyable journey through both sports, humanness and history.

The Ice King is out in cinemas on Friday, February 23rd.