Rooftop Films: Munyurangabo (Event Over)
- When:Sat 8/23/08 (8PM)
- Where: roof of The Old American Can Factory
- Address: 232 Third Street Brooklyn, NY Map
- Cost: $6
Editors' Take
"Munyurangabo" is a realist drama set in the aftermath of wartorn Rwanda, directed by an budding Korean-American filmmaker.
Tickets for this Event
-
General Admission-Limited Time Discount - $6.00
No refunds. In the event of rain, show will be held indoors at the same location. Seating is first come, first served. Physical seats are limited. That means a small percentage of the audience may not get a chair. NO POINTY HEELED SHOES ALLOWED ON THE ROOF.
-
General Admission - $9.00
Not Available No refunds. In the event of rain, show will be held indoors at the same location. Seating is first come, first served. Physical seats are limited. That means a small percentage of the audience may not get a chair. NO POINTY HEELED SHOES ALLOWED ON THE ROOF.
Sat., August 23, 2008
Munyurangabo
A stunning neo-realist drama about revenge and friendship in
post-genocide Rwanda. The debut feature from the 2008 recipient of
the Rooftop Films and Eastern Effects Equipment Grant.
Venue: On the roof of The Old American Can Factory
Address: 232 3rd Street at the corner of 3rd Avenue (Gowanus, Brooklyn)
Directions:
F, G to Carroll Street
or M, R to Union Street and read
here for directions from the train|
Map
Rain: In the event of rain the show will be held indoors at the same
location
8:30PM:
Sound Fix presents live music by
Twi the Humble Feather
9:00PM: Films
Tickets: $6 at
http://going.com for a limited time
Preview: See short films from this and other programs at
www.IFC.com
Presented in partnership with:
Eastern Effects,
IFC.com,
New York magazine, and
XØ Projects
PROGRAM NOTES:
Munyrangabo (Lee Isaac Chung | Rwanda & USA | 1:37:00)
“Like a bolt out of the blue, Korean American filmmaker Lee
Isaac Chung achieves an astonishing and thoroughly masterful debut
with Munyurangabo, which is—by several light years—the
finest and truest film yet on the moral and emotional repercussions
of the 15-year-old genocide that wracked Rwanda.”
— Robert Koehler, Variety
“We hear so often today of the “collapse of Western
culture” that it comes to sound like a bit of cocktail party
repartee, almost taken for granted, such an obvious fact of life
that of course there’s nothing we can do about it, like
global warming. Nothing could be more dangerous. Munyurangabo also
grows out of cultural collapse on a grand (and horrific) scale, and
then proceeds to transcend it.”
— Robin Wood, Film Comment
There is an old axiom in narrative that a weapon seen in the first
act will be used in the final act. The drama is what lies in
between. Munyurangabo opens with a scene of a young man in a
Rwandan market, watching a nearby fistfight, and stealing a
machete. But the portent of that act—under violent
circumstances and in a nation still reeling from a brutal Genocide
in 1994—is immediately destabilized in one of Chung’s
astonishing camera moves, which manages to be naturalistic and
subtle, but also momentous. From a close-up on the now bloody
machete, the camera tilts up to the troubled face of Ngabo, then
back down to the machete, clear of blood. The drama posed within
Munyurangabo does not follow your typical action/revenge
plot—the question posed is not if or how Ngabo will use the
machete. The question is should he use it.
Ngabo and his best friend Sangwa set out on a journey. If there is
any doubt as to their goal, it’s cleared up early in the
film, when Ngabo asks Sangwa, “Do you forget that we’re
on a journey to kill a man?” The conversation is covered with
direct addresses to the camera, quietly accosting and implicating
the viewer, and mirroring a stunning moment later in the film, when
the opposite sentiment is expressed in a direct address from
Edouard B. Uwayo, Rwanda's actual poet laureate, who recites a
stark and lovely poem calling for peace. The poem is aptly titled
“Liberation is a Journey.”
Along the way, Sangwa must deal with his own difficult past,
returning to his home after three years with no communication. The
rich back-story is subtly revealed, perfectly weighing the tension
of the scenes, which are played with a minimum of dialogue, few
close-ups, and a languorous delivery that belies the complex
passions. Long takes and wide angles allow the subtle gestures of
body language to grandly enrich the emotions—Sangwa’s
mother eagerly feeding her grown son when there is so little food,
and dejectedly waiting alone in the doorway as her son leaves the
house off-camera; Sangwa’s father aggressively showing his
son how to till a field after the boy had abandoned the family for
city life; Ngabo contemplatively hacking at a tree stump with the
machete; and everyone moving as if exhausted by the myriad burdens
of heat, poverty, hunger, illness, and guilt.
As the friends press on, Sangwa and Ngabo’s friendship is
tested, torn between their expectations for a brutal fate, and
their hope that somewhere in them lies the willpower to discover
liberation. By leaving us with core ambiguities in the plot, Chung
challenges the audience to ask complex and poignant questions. As
an individual, what is the moral thing to do, when given the
opportunity for revenge? And given that Western manipulations and
indifference have forced Rwanda and much of Africa to prey on
itself, what is the proper punishment for a criminal, when the
entire nation has become a victim?
* * *
Lee Isaac Chung was awarded Rooftop Films and
Eastern Effects 2008 Equipment Grant, lending him a complete two-ton lighting and
grip package to shoot his second feature film, Lucky Life. The film
will begin production in September. Read more about the grant and
Lucky Life
here.



Rooftop Films