The Year of the Everlasting Storm

In retrospect, the title might actually have been optimistic. Billed as a “love letter to cinema” and featuring seven well-regarded directors from across the globe, The Year of the Everlasting Storm brings together seven stories set and shot during the Covid-19 pandemic, mostly in the year of 2020. At times joyous, ponderous, profound, and even frustrating, the film invites its audience to reflect on the pandemic’s toll on our lives, but also on how life has, mostly, gone on much as it did before (for better or worse).

The film’s stories are compact, but far from perfunctory. A lizard and a grandmother find peace amid the afterglow of new life (Life, Jafar Panâhi), a young family struggles to adjust to life in quarantine (The Break Away, Anthony Chen), a father stays connected with his young children over video chat (Little Measures, Malik Vitthal), a surveillance company’s attempts to disrupt and destabilise the lives of journalists are documented (Terror Contagion, Laura Poitras), a mother records her choir parts and visits her daughter’s newborn child from afar (Sin Título, Dominga Sotomayor), a box of letters leads to an encounter with the past (Dig Up My Darling, David Lowery), and a white bedsheet provides the backdrop for a swarm of insects (Night Colonies, Apichatpong Weerasethakul). Seven stories diverging from a single, tragic, source, depicting the diversity of human experience, but also underscoring our fundamental, shared, humanity.

The ’90s saw an increased cultural fascination with chaos theory (colloquially, “the butterfly effect”), in particular its focus on how small changes in the initial conditions of a complex system can produce large and unpredictable differences in its resultant state. The famous “butterfly flapping its wings” metaphor seemed to catch on not only because of its inherent provocativeness but because the world was becoming vastly and irreversibly interconnected—suddenly, we could appreciate how seemingly minor events in one region might have massive impacts around the globe.

That’s what makes The Year of the Everlasting Storm important. The Covid-19 pandemic has impacted the lives of every person on the planet, an experience unique in human history that should have forced the realisation that, despite our differences, we all come from the same flesh and blood. But the 2020 pandemic was just a warm up for the climate disasters coming in our lifetimes. Unless we recognise our shared fate soon, we may end up ceding the planet back to the primeval creatures that preceded us.

It’s fitting, then, that the film begins and ends with creatures (lizards and insects specifically) that once ruled the earth in our absence. However, the two segments are decidedly different in their outlook. In Panâhi’s Life, humanity reconciles with the natural world; but in Weerasethakul’s Night Colonies, only the vestiges of humanity remain. Between these options are five tales of human resilience and hope, emphasising that the choices that will determine our fate are ours and ours alone.

The Year of the Everlasting Storm premiered in Cannes and it will show in UK cinemas soon. Stay tuned for the date.

Risk

Documentary-making sits somewhere between fiction and truth. A doc is not a sheer reflection of reality, because such feature is impossible. The eye of the documentarist is always somewhere in the middle distorting reality, regardless of how impartial and distant the filmmaker endeavours to be. In Risk, American director Laura Poitras attempts to remain equitable and detached from her subject, but she soon realises that this isn’t feasible.

The Academy Award winning director of Citizenfour (2014), a documentary concerning Edward Snowden and the NSA spying scandal, returns to the subject of information activism, this time focusing on Wikileaks founder Julian Assange and his associates Jacob Appelbaum and Sarah Harrison. The film follows the footsteps of the Australian computer programmer from 2006 to present days. Poitras first approached Wikileaks in 2010, meaning that the earlier footage (between 2006 and 2010) wasn’t made by her.

The film captures some very powerful moments, such as when Assange calls Hillary Clinton in order to warn her about a major impending leak, or when Appelbaum confronts the Egyptian government on the subject of censorship in the middle of a very tense press conference (pre-Arab Spring, still under Mubarak). This is a real inside’s view into the dangerous world of Wikileaks. A bumpy ride without seat belt.

If this was a espionage film, it would come across as too absurd and implausible. An international fugitive being harboured in a small embassy for years, his shaving cream and deodorant on bookshelves, a pop star called Lady Gaga shows up one day in order to conduct an interview, while a whole police battalion keeps guard outside 24×7. There’s even Assange disguising himself by dying his hair and wearing contact lenses (pictured below) in order to move into the Ecuadorian Embassy, thereby avoid extradition to Sweden and likely imprisonment in the US. Reality is indeed bizarre.

Poitras deserves credit for providing us with valuable insight into such a dangerous and volatile environment. This insider’s view makes the film extremely engaging, but it also prevents Laura from detaching herself from the story being told. In fact, she becomes an integral part of the saga. She’s exposing the exposer, conspiring against the conspirator, or whistle-blowing the whistle-blower – whichever terminology you find most appropriate. Poitras is doubly subversive in her role, and she confesses at the end of the movie that Assange wasn’t pleased with the film being released. It’s never entirely clear why he let Laura film him at all. She thinks he doesn’t even like her. Assange’s motives are very ambiguous.

Ultimately, Risk is indeed a risky film. It could compromise the security of both filmmaker and the subjects of the film. Assange and Appelbaum are both accused of sexual misconduct, while Sarah could faces terrorism charges. These three controversial individuals already face a life of restrictions and possible jail sentences. Risk could work as a denunciation tool in their favour but also as an exposé of their shortcomings. It’s time you go to the cinema and decide for yourself.

Risk is out in the UK on Friday, June 30th.