Films, and art in general, can be incredibly effective in raising awareness. There’s no easier way of engaging in (armchair) activism than watching films – or at least that’s what I tell myself between distressingly large mouthfuls of popcorn.
But there’s a problem, one that isn’t being reported on enough. A quick google search for “top 10 films” reveals the shocking extent of the damage – more than 12,200,000,000 lists are polluting the delicate ecosystem of the internet with their toxic discourse on cinema and raising the pH with their basic takes. And it’s more widespread than you might think – nearly 1 in 30 people believe Fight Club is unironic.
To be mindful of my impact on this definitely real situation, I’m cutting my list down to just three films:
Pom Poko (Isao Takahata)
Studio Ghibli films are a staple of this kind of list and rightly so – Hayao Miyazaki has directed some real gems. Princess Mononoke, Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind and Ponyo are all strong contenders. But where Miyazaki is happy with a boring, neoliberal compromise, Isao Takahata is a true radical. And what could be more radical than raccoons fighting off property developers with magic testicles – yes, now that’s praxis.
The tanuki, or raccoon dog, is native to Japan and looks, unsurprisingly, like a cross between a raccoon and a dog. In folklore, tanuki are seen as shapeshifting tricksters with impressive gonads, which play an integral part in the shapeshifting. Weird how Nintendo didn’t include more scenes of Tom Nook’s nuts in Animal Crossing…
Pom Poko follows a group of tanuki on the outskirts of Tokyo who unite together to resist housing developments in their habitat. They scare off builders, divert supplies, and engage in literal ‘balls to the wall’ acts of protest that XR could only dream of.
There’s a real sense of cynicism in Pom Poko, compared to most Ghibli films. The tanuki’s efforts have almost no effect on the ever encroaching suburbia. In life (as in comedy), low-hanging fruit can only get you so far.
Make sure to watch it with the Japanese audio. The English dub – in an act of censorship that could only be described as Orwellian – replaces all mentions of balls with raccoon pouches.
Pumzi (Wanuri Kahiu)
Pumzi is a scathing critique of the environmental optimism displayed by certain people. This certain kind of person believes in buzzwords like “technological singularity” and rabidly defends their favourite technodaddies, who will definitely whisk them away to a life of luxury (and definitely not indentured servitude) on Mars.
Amidst the nuclear fallout of ‘The Water War’, the Maitu community has formed a closed system in the East African territory. Every single drop of water is recycled, even the sweat – mmm musky.
A curator, Asha, finds a living sapling amongst her soil samples. Organic plant life is an obvious threat to Maitu’s highly controlled society and the news is brutally supressed. But, very relatably, Asha is willing to risk a nuclear wasteland to make sure her plant-baby is happy.
Wanuri Kahiu manages to weave an incredibly ambitious afro-futurist piece of speculative-fiction – the hardest thing to swallow might be its shockingly low budget. Kahiu also draws attention to the disproportionate impact climate change has on women and it’s only through Asha’s efforts that change is possible.
All in all, Pumzi presents a thoroughly bleak version of a “green” future, marred by scarcity, devoid of nature, and perhaps worst of all, powered by compulsory exercise.
Aniara (Pella Kågerman & Hugo Lilja)
If lockdown hasn’t been the existential crisis you’d hoped it’d be then Aniara will certainly deliver. Based on a poem (of the same name) by Harry Martinson, Aniara is another vision of a future dystopia, where the Earth is depleted and SpaceX is at the forefront of climate policy 🤮
The vessel, Aniara, is enroute to Mars when a freak collision takes out the engines – but oh no, looks like Elon’s been cutting costs by skimping on the life boats. Hopelessly adrift in the void of space, the crew and passengers have to adapt to their “new normal”.
The only semblance of familiarity is provided by MIMA, an advanced AI that can simulate Earth – before it got ruined. Unsurprisingly, MIMA is strained to breaking point under the increased emotional labour and –in a fit of despair– shuts down. Maybe, just maybe, that’s an allegory for something?
With nothing to stave off the existential angst, the passengers of Aniara do the natural thing and resort to alcohol, drugs, mutiny, and, of course, forming a kinky sex cult – clearly I’ve been doing lockdown wrong.
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So there you have it, that’s three films you can add to the ever-growing watchlist you promise you’ll get to. Both Pumzi and Aniara are available through a BFI subscription (at time of writing), which is a great way of supporting the industry in these rough times.
I’ve avoided ranking these films in any order or giving them some meaningless score out of 10 – like any good parent I don’t have favourites. And just like every parent, I’m lying – it’s Pumzi.
Sujay would like to think that he’s doing a PhD in mathematical physics, though some part of him knows he’s fallen too far down the rabbithole of lockdown baking. Apart from indulging in a bit of climate-induced existential angst, he likes to, occasionally, watch a film or two – which makes him more qualified than the average IMDB user (probably).