The Rise & Fall Of Comrade Zylo (Shkelqimi Dhe Renia E Shokut Zylo)

QUICK SNAP: LIVE FROM TALLINN

Comrade Demka (Donald Shehu) just can’t say no. It’s 1971, and he’s strongly in demand as a political speechwriter. As fast as he can churn out speeches, it seems, he’s asked to write more. His wife Zenepja (Xhoana Karaj) is fed up with him working all the time, feels he’s wasting his talent and anyway would rather he spent more time with her. And then, there’s Comrade Zylo (Aleks Seitaj), appropriating speeches Demka has written for others, such as the one on the tedious-sounding ‘Innovative Developing Elements in the spread of our culture throughout Albania’.

Watching Zylo read one of Demka’s speech through the circular windows of the auditorium doors, Demka listens to the praise for Zylo pouring from the mouth of Zylo’s wife Adila (Enisa Hysa). She’s impressed by the words her husband has written, unaware that Demka, not Zylo, actually wrote them. She’s less impressed, along with most of the audience, with the speech of committee chair Comrade Q (Petrit Malaj) – which Demka also wrote, on a tight deadline – going down rather less well. At the after-speech dance (with a traditional and very conservative Albanian folk band) she dances and flirts with Demka.

Q meanwhile, is less than happy, feeling that Demka could have written better for him. No sooner has he stormed off than Zylo, who clearly knows a good thing when he sees it, is asking Demka to come and work for him. He introduces Demka to one of his sons, the composer Diogenio (Samuel Vargu). Also in Zylo;’s circle are the playwright of The Storm Is Defeated, Adem Adashi (Amos Muji Zaharia), and his wife, the singer Cleopatra (Jorida Meta).

Zylo becomes obsessed with the potential effect of socialism on West Africa, and wants Demka to write him a speech for an upcoming conference there. The pair of them go to Africa on a delegation, accompanied by Cleopatra. There’s clearly something going on between Zylo and Cleopatra. No-one in the party pays any attention to the delegation, which proves something of a non-event. Except that it’s the beginning of the end for the career of Comrade Zylo.

The whole thing oscillates between a bureaucratic drama with Comrade Q, Zylo and various factions vying against each other to get ahead, an existentialist drama in which Demko struggles to write to deadline, a domestic drama in which Demko’s wife thinks he’s a great writer wasting his time on political speeches, and the occasionally very funny scene of satire about life in an Eastern Bloc socialist state.

Perhaps the best scene occurs when during a visit to a village, Zylo gets drunk at a gathering convened in his honour and starts talking about all men being equal, that they shouldn’t oppress their women like tyrants, and so forth. He starts waving his pistol about (not with the intent of discharging it, except maybe to put a bullet in the ceiling) while everyone around him is getting increasingly worried. He’s speaking out for an equality which can’t possibly exist under the current bureaucratic, socialist system, with its Party hierarchy, and it’s as if everyone is aware of the existing pecking order but him, the person in charge.

Overall, this is a film likely to make more sense or to appeal to those who have experienced life under a totalitarian leftist regime than those of us who haven’t.

The Rise & Fall Of Comrade Zylo premiered in the 26th Tallinn Black Nights Film Festival.

Grace Jones: Bloodlight and Bami

There are plenty of outrageous masks, flamboyant hats, glistening clothes, extravagant moves and one hula hoop. What you won’t see in Grace Jones: Bloodlight and Bami is lip-syncing. Or off-key singing. Or regrets. At 69 years of age, the living legend remains as impressive as in her early days, and her deep voice as vigorous as ever. Her body remains intact, as if immune to senescence. To the extent you will question yourself: is she human?

I’m a huge fan of Miss Jones, so I expected no less than an outstanding documentary about a magnificent human being with a musical talent and physical strength that teeter on the edge of the supernatural. I wasn’t disappointed. Sophie Fiennes spent five years with Grace Jones in order to create this intimate and fascinating portrait of the diva and her family. While the film doesn’t highlight it, Grace and Sophie have a lot of common: they are both females, they both are one of seven siblings and they both come from a family of artists (Grace and her mother are both singers, while virtually all of Sophie’s family is in the film industry). Perhaps a certain degree of complicity allowed this documentary to flow so smoothly.

You will have the opportunity to see Grace – who is often remembered for her tantrums as much as for her talent – at ease with family and friends in the US, her birth nation Jamaica and France (where she lived for a long period of time with her ex Jean-Paul Gaude). You will witness her take part in an informal family dinner where people eat fish with their hands, you will see her laugh inside in the humble dwelling of a friend in Spanish Town (Jamaica). She can’t help being a diva. I’m not sure whether she even tries it. Why should she? Being a diva just comes out naturally. The four-letter accolade suits her perhaps better than anyone else in the music world.

Highlights of the movie include Grace’s very own redemption of the classic Amazing Grace. It feels almost as if the song was made for her. Her delivery is in no way inferior to Mahalia Jackson’s and Joan Baez’s. Her disembodied voice, her hoarse and confident warble will enrapture you. You will be dancing in the dark. You will also see her mother Marjorie sing in church at the age of 90 with a voice as potent as her daughter. Seeing Marjorie singing with such confidence comes as a relief. It suggests that Grace will still be strong and going for a long time. Sadly the old lady passed away just two weeks ago after a major stroke (a few months after the film was completed).

Grace Jones is like wine, she gets more refined with age. Even if the signs of ageing are not quite visible. Her image is still as sharp as in the Jean-Paul Goude days (her then-husband snapped the emblematic androgynous and bestial pictures for which she became famous in the 1970s). She’s extremely virile – an adjective normally reserved for men. Grace Jones can legitimately claim the right to challenge the established orthodoxy of the word usage.

Ultimately, this is an entirely fit-for-purpose doc – not an easy task in the case ultra-demanding Grace Jones. It’s also an imaginative piece of cinema, with Sophie often detaching the image from the voice. There is a fascinating scene where Grace Jones dances in slow motion inside a club to the sound of little more than a rattle instrument. Truly hypnotic. The only downside of the doc is thatit neither contextualises her career nor names her family members, making it sometimes a little difficult to work out who’s who and what’s happening, unless you are already very familiar with all matters concerning Miss Jones.

Grace Jones: Bloodlight and Bami is was in cinemas across the UK on Friday, October 27th, with a preview attended by Miss Jones herself the previous night, and a Live with Friends events on the 25th – when this review was originally written. It’s out on BFI Player February 2018. The film title means “red spotlight and bread” in Jamaican patois.