With Love From Munera
2020, 12 minutes
Yazmeen Kanji
My own space
Lately, it seems to happen more and more that the “different” amongst us manage to find their voices and courage to share their stories—in this instance, a self-confession: a Black, lesbian Muslim, which had many echoes of a similar “telling” from an abused Punjabi woman whose already difficult life seemed to collapse (literally) when a rare virus rendered her paralyzed from the waist down.
For Munera, coming out to herself after an undisclosed accident, with a generously loving aunt at her side, was the proverbial “huge weight off my shoulders”. Making peace with Allah took longer to achieve, but their relationship was renewed after realizing “Allah never said he hates me.”
Both women then found their true selves by learning to accept their bodies as they are—not how they assumed others wished they could be. It’s a message that so many more struggling women and men need to hear: “Yes, life is often not easy, but everyone can rise above and find their place.”
The icing on this many-layered cake is the original score from Katharine Petkovski, knowingly reinforcing the production’s various thoughts and moods with thoughtful piano, brooding low strings, hopeful guitar and a touch of house music to reinforce the spoken ideas and imagery. JWR
Voice of our Own
1989, 25 minutes
Premika Ratnam, Ali Kazimi
Where it all began
Here’s a timely reminder of the challenges immigrant and visible minority women face/faced in Canada, with a documentary that traces the 1986 founding of the National Organization of Immigrant and Visible Minority Women.
It is most timely to see this production in 2021 as, on both sides of the border--but particularly in the U.S.—the active notion of white supremacy—is far from over.
Central to the founding meeting was unity, or not; Rosemary Brown was an early champion of both groups (immigrants, visible minorities) coming together and collectively seeking to improve working conditions, training, education, et cetera.
Prophetically, one white woman from Vancouver, at first, objected to the use of the term “visible minority” in the newly minted organization’s name as she knew—not many years forward that this would describe her in British Columbia’s most populace city. JWR
Call Me Krishna
2020, 10 minutes
Rojelio Palacios
Becoming myself
Here’s a fine snippet in the life of Aria (Claudia Liz) on her journey to morphing into Krishna. Happily, support for this life-altering transition can be found in best friend Skyler (Taylor Violet Ross), a couple of eyes wide open men, and a perpetually loving mom.
One can only wish that all souls on this journey—no matter what their destination—would have the same level of encouragement and understanding. JWR
Her Sweetness Lingers
1994, 12 minutes
Shani Mootoo
A very personal love story
Anyone who falls in love, but has been afraid of that emotion/feeling/situation, knowing it MUST end with one or the other’s death, will savour this wee cinematic masterpiece.
From pic-in-pic storytelling within beautiful surroundings, to a steadfast body walking perfectly in sync with the drum-laden soundscape, through the compelling metaphor of bees gathering nectar to serve another, this film covers a mountain of territory.
Repeated viewings/hearings are recommended. JWR
Nectar
2020, 12 minutes
Nakita Sunar
The Joy of Fat
Finally, a film celebrating overweight women who have learned to love their bodies: just as they—also black and with more than a trace of lavender—celebrate theirs.
Filling the screen with large love (and an adorable wee one) are Shanese Indoowaaboo Steele, alongside Aruna and Surya Boodman.
The laid-back tracks are at one with the women themselves: dancing to the groove, taking provocative poses, and laying bare the usual discrimination thrown at them by “slighter people” (in all senses of the word).
Line du jour: “Have you fucked a fat person?”, might give more than a few to pause—deep down—and wonder “why not?”, as they recall the many forgettable sexual encounters with the slim out there.
Three cheers to Sunar, for enlightening us all—no matter how we tip the scales! JWR
Snowbird
2020, 8 minutes
Sadiah Rahman
No connection
Some films just feel wrong from the beginning. For me (others are welcome to disagree), this is one of those.
From the awkward (dramatically) daughter/dad moment to the snowball fight, nothing seemed to tie everything together; not even a beautiful pendant. JWR
Beyond/Body/Memory
1993, 5 minutes
Nwwsha Meminger
Decide for yourself
Too fine women
High strings to start
The women, both naked—eventually
Film poetry in all senses, sensual of the word
Does it resonate with you? JWR