The 41st annual edition of the Chicago Latino Film Festival – the longest continuously running event of its kind in the US – is now in the books, having featured an array of narrative, documentary and short films in local theaters and community centers. Here’s my take on what I watched and what I thought.
Hope is an undeniably powerful force, and a belief in it firmly cements our faith in it in our consciousness. It’s difficult to shake, too, hanging on persistently in our worldview. Admittedly, though, when circumstances challenge its validity and viability, that quality can come under fire, perhaps even prompting us to question its strength and resilience. But such conditions can also serve to affirm our convictions, to galvanize us in our views of the power of hope, particularly when it seems like that’s all we have going for us.
The search for self is a process that many of us believe we complete when we come of age. However, as we often later discover, it’s something we need to revisit as the circumstances of our lives evolve. In fact, we might find that this is an ongoing, life-long process that requires continual vigilance and assessment. That can be confusing, if not disconcerting, particularly if we assume we’ve arrived at all the answers we need at an earlier stage of life.
There are many ways we can live our lives, but the one quality that most of us strive for is to find out what makes that existence – and, consequently, us – great. It’s not an easy question to answer, and we often spend considerable time trying to figure it out. So how do we ultimately arrive at a definitively fulfilling answer to this quest?
There are so many things that can go wrong in life that it hardly seems wise, practical or prudent to go looking for ways to make our existence needlessly grueling. Yet, if we’re truly honest with ourselves, there are plenty of situations that can all too easily yield undue stress, pain and difficulty – and all as a result of our own making, too. But why would we do that?
What makes us successful as creative beings? That’s a question that scholars, philosophers and artists have been asking rhetorically for eons. Much, of course, depends on the nature of the creation. A lot also depends on the traits and temperaments of the creators. But the actual mix of attributes necessary for achieving such fulfillment may ultimately be difficult to define – or, as the French might say, a certain je ne sais quoi.
Innovators are indeed a rare breed. They have ways of seeing things that many of us lack or haven’t yet developed. When they ply their abilities, they come up with inspiring, original conceptions that often attract huge followings and many imitators. And yet, despite these gifts and accomplishments, they sometimes don’t receive the credit or recognition they truly deserve.
In the wake of the recent 50th anniversary of the 1973 Chilean coup d’etat that resulted in the overthrow of democratically elected President Salvador Allende, an effort led by the country’s military and backed by the US government, a number of film projects (both documentary and narrative features) have been released looking back on this event. These projects have taken a variety of forms, and one of the most unusual (and creative) among them has been a production that takes a metaphorical and wickedly satirical look at the life of Allende’s successor, dictator Augusto Pinochet (1915-2006), portraying him in a surreal but fitting milieu, as seen in the hilarious but insightful allegorical biography, “El Conde” (“The Count”).
All things eventually come to an end, whether we’re ready for it or not. We may not like what we see, either, especially if we’re troubled by what’s on the horizon. We might even feel like there’s more that we could or should have done to forestall what’s unfolding while we had the chance, opportunities that slipped through our fingers and are unlikely to come again. But sometimes destiny has a way of intervening, giving us another unexpected shot at realizing our aspirations and perhaps even making a meaningful difference.
I find it curious how often many of us think of the everyday lives of well-known actors and actresses as being virtually identical to the parts they play in movies and on television. These performers are so convincing in their roles that countless viewers tend to believe their on-screen and off-screen personas are virtually indistinguishable. However, when we examine the credibility of that idea, many of us can’t help but come to the conclusion that this notion is patently ludicrous.
