A Film a Week - Sew Torn

 previously published on Cineuropa

There is a theory that every little choice we make could potentially change our lives completely, but in practice, all of the decisions can lead to pretty much the same outcome. For Barbara, the heroine of Freddy Macdonald’s feature debut, Sew Torn, showing on the Piazza Grande at Locarno, this would equate to different types of death, as we see them in an elegantly shot opening montage sequence. This premise is not all that new – we will remember films ranging from Tom Tykwer’s Run Lola Run to those that actually mimic video-game logic, and the same goes for the approach adopted, which runs along the same lines as the Coen brothers’ earlier works. Nevertheless, this combination might sit well with wider audiences at festivals (the film actually world-premiered at SXSW), in regular theatrical distribution and, later, on VoD platforms.

Barbara (Eve Connolly, best known for her roles in the series Into the Badlands and Vikings) is a seamstress who operates the shop she inherited from her late mother in a village in the mountains. There is not much work to do, and the still-grieving Barbara is not highly motivated to do it either, but when she gets a call from elderly bride Grace (Caroline Goodall), asking her to mend her dress for her third wedding, she heads to her place. Since Grace is quite a pest of a client, Barbara makes a mistake and loses a button, so she has to go back to fetch a new one.

On her way back to her shop, she witnesses something that will change her life. What initially seems like a traffic accident is actually a drug deal gone wrong, which involves courier Beck (Thomas Douglas) and the local mobster’s reluctant son, Josh (Calum Worthy). Barbara has three choices: to use her particular set of skills as a seamstress to commit the perfect crime, to call the police or to simply drive away. However, in any of these situations, mobster Hudson Armitage (the seasoned John Lynch) will soon enter the scene…

The film’s lightweight quirkiness in most aspects is probably its biggest trump card. This world – which looks like the Swiss Alps (where it was actually shot) but is populated by Irish actors, is pastel-coloured and is filled with strange knick-knacks, such as portraits accompanied by a voice which is activated by a switch in the guise of a needle or thread – is definitely something we do not see in the movies every day. It also serves as a reminder of the talent of Viviane Rapp, who acted as both production and costume designer here, and of Macdonald’s sense for including strange little details in the bigger picture. Macdonald should also be commended for his work as his own editor, as he proves focused enough to filter out ideas with a noticeable amount of determination.

As for the acting, Eve Conolly could turn out to be a revelation, especially for parts that require versatility but not great nuance, so that any transformations can be applied quickly and instinctively. On the other hand, John Lynch is still the “MVP” of the film thanks to his sheer threatening presence, which remains sinister, even when we catch him peddling the same, corny joke for the third time. Meanwhile, the others have bit roles that they are instructed to approach in a more or less cartoonish way.

All of this is sufficient to make Sew Torn a fun movie and a pleasant viewing experience. Clearly, it is not a masterpiece in any way, but Macdonald has proven himself to be capable of executing a proper crowd-pleaser.

A Film a Week - The Divine Order / Die göttliche Ordung

Did you know that Switzerland, known for its political and military neutrality, long-standing peace, social well-being, cheeses, products of precise mechanics and banks, was one of the last countries to introduce women’s right to vote? On the confederal level, it happened in 1971, that means after the whole sexual revolution thing, and it took another 20 years for the last canton to incorporate it into its constitution. The reason for that can be a combination of factors including less stressful life than in the rest of Europe in the first half of the 20^th century and a strong influence of tradition and Christian religion (Catholic and Calvinist, no real difference) keeping “the divine order” in which a women is subdued to her man and both of them to God.

The Divine Order, written for the screen and directed by Petra Volpe (of Dreamland fame), is a fictionous account on women’s fight for the voting right set in the microcosm of a small mountain town. During its course we shall see the transformation of its heroine from a submissive anti-feminist housewife to a jeans-wearing revolutionary, her gradual acceptance of her own sexual needs, the transformation of other women from silent and obedient wives to a community capable of reaching its political goals and also the transformation of town’s men from boorish chauvinists to civilized, understanding husbands.

The trajectory of the story is somewhat predictable, but there are some surprises, insightful and comedic moments along the way. The writing is precise, the directing is more than competent, there is a plenty of visual polish with all the early 70’s look, the editing is spot-on, and the format of 96 minutes is very audience-friendly. On the other hand, subtlety is not the name of the game here.

We meet our heroine through the voice-over narration about all the nice and exciting things as Woodstock, sexual revolution and human rights movement far away over the seas and all of that bypassing Switzerland, especially its rural regions. Her name is Nora and she is played with grace by German actress Marie Leuenberger. The choice of the name is not accidental – her start is not dissimilar to the title heroine of Henrik Ibsen’s play. Our Nora is married to Hans (Maximilian Simonischek, son of Peter), a boyishly good-looking soon to be entry-level manager in the local factory, takes care of their two sons and her father-in-law and she seems content doing so. But when she sees the injustice her brother-in-law does to his wife Theresa (Rachel Braunschweig) and especially daughter Hanna (Ella Rumpf, known for her part in Raw), she gets interested in the whole referendum thing. With the help of a former innkeeper Vroni (Sibyle Brunner) and an Italian divorcee Graziella (Marta Zoffoli), she is ready to fight for her rights.

Volpe usually succeeds in blending the serious activist drama with a small-town comedic undertones. That is not so strange since the whole premise is a bit absurd: the future of women’s voting rights will be decided by men only and maybe not the meanest, but the most eloquent antagonist of the film is actually a woman working on a high position for whom the social status is more important than basic human right. The films hits its emotional peaks through the interaction between the large women during the Lysistrata-like strike subplot, and the cerebral ones in the moments of satisfaction that grown men can also learn that the times are changing and that doing housework will not kill them or make them gay.

However, linking the whole thing with the echoes of sexual liberation falls flat down somewhere around the midpoint – aiming for easy laughs about middle-to-old-aged women learning a thing or two about there vaginas, orgasms and sex in general during a visit to a protest in Zurich, it gets more than a bit unpleasant in the scene with a Swedish new-age therapist of sorts. There is no doubt that political and sexual revelation are connected in more than one way, but here it simply does not work neither as a statement nor as a running joke comic relief. Still, as a political and social drama with some nice absurdist touches, The Divine Order is quite alright.