Violeta ***

Director: Andrés Wood
Cast: Francisca Gavilán, Thomas Durand, Christian Quevedo
Gabriela Aguilera, Roberto Farías

"I will sing wherever there is someone who will listen" says Violeta Parra (Gavilán) when asked about her venues of choice and through Andrés Wood's stunning Violeta (in Spanish poetically titled Violeta se fue a los cielos) we are exposed not to a "biopic" character, but to a woman whose desire to create was stronger than her ties to family or societal norms.
Framed within a TV interview Parra gave in Argentina, the film uses this relatively traditional structure to then travel back and forward in time to tell us her life story. Done with the impressionistic style Olivier Dahan only wishes he'd achieved with his chaotic La vie en rose, this movie transcends biopic-ness to enter something much more profound, it is both poetry and psychological analysis turned into film.
While it obviously intends to paint a portrait of who this woman was, it does so not merely by listing chronological highlights, but by wondering what they meant to her, how they affected her creative process. "Creation is a bird without a flight plan" exclaims Parra, portrayed by the seductive Gavilán as an explosive creature, often overflowing with passions. Where a less talented performer would've turned Parra into an exercise of mimicry, Gavilán infuses her with impressive energy, creating little moments in the performance that can not be considered anything other than brilliant. She gives herself to this character and has no problem exploring Parra's body issues (the scene where she grabs her stomach as if asking god why can't she be young again is chilling and heartbreaking). For those unfamiliar with Parra, she will display a range of emotions that will undoubtedly send them looking for her work, wondering if she was this vibrant and powerful.
The answer will of course be yes, since not only did she establish a revolutionary folk movement in South America, but she also became an example of creation that went beyond the laws of men. The movie has no issue in showing Parra was no angel, audiences might leave the film wondering why she abandoned her children for so long, why she didn't become more of a martyr and why doesn't she fit the characteristics of artists whose lives become movies?
Wood chose an atypical style to craft his film and makes it become a magical realist musical. There are never moments of sudden epiphany where we see how Parra came to create this and that, instead he uses her legacy to trace back the emotional and psychological states that she was in when she made them. It might sound ironic to bring this up, but the movie could have no sound or dialogues and still be powerful, because Wood's images speak just as loudly as Parra's music (that he chooses not to use her most famous song during any key scenes is truly admirable).
Violeta is an homage to a great artist, which at the same time seems to be competing with her work. This doesn't mean that Wood undermines Parra's music (or her graphic arts) but that he loves film with the same intensity that Parra loved her own devices, and would by no means let external factors deter his own creation.

Short Take: "Nostalgia for the Light" and "Pina".

The Atacama Desert occupies over forty thousand square miles of northern Chile and is known for being the driest desert in the world. Its elements have been compared to Martial soil because absolutely no living organism could thrive in it. Director Patricio Guzmán argues that it's in this desolate place where the universe has created a portal where the past, present and perhaps even the future run into each other, but fear not, this isn't a sci-fi film, instead what the director creates is a moving non-fiction essay that contemplates our existence and how passing time is both tragic and solacing.
Guzmán is a child of the Chilean revolution and as such he tells in detail how his country went from being an exemplary land to a hell where people were murdered or kidnapped if they opposed the system. The documentary interweaves three different stories: we have Guzmán's observations and soulful narration, testimonials from concentration camp survivors and the families of those who never returned home, and there's also interviews with astronomers who run the observation sites in the Atacama desert, all of whom have more in common with each other than they would've guessed.
Guzmán makes a strange, if remarkably convincing case, about how all these people are united by history and the creation of the universe (this film would make a superb companion piece to The Tree of Life) and the director also displays an expert's eye for bending elements of real life into a narrative that's absolutely spellbinding and profound. In all of its essay-glory best, the film proves that Guzmán is as deft a creator as any supernatural force.

Pina Bausch was a pioneer choreographer who updated the concept of Tanztheater: a complex combination of movements and staggering sets which brought a new sensibility to the concept of modern dance. Bausch's longtime friend Wim Wenders had wanted to make a documentary about her life but she passed away a few days before shooting commenced. The project was then rescued by her pupils, who seem to have an utmost faith in their instructor, and the result is Pina, a wonderful nonfiction film that works as a supreme showcase of her legacy.
The film consists of several breathtaking setpieces in which the dancers display unbelievable physical skills, as well as a mystifying unity with their surroundings. Several moments have us rub our eyes in disbelief as we see deft dancers jump over a gargantuan boulder as if it was nothing but a step high, and some other moments explore the duality of the sexes by having a frail-looking female dancer use her humongous arms to do delicate moves (but this one has a twist so be ready to gasp). What remains persistent throughout each setpiece is the way in which Bausch found beauty in all her dancers; from the young and slender ones, to the ones whose faces are so rugged as to suggest they're "has-beens" in the age obsessed world of the arts,  you wonder then if Pina, more than a teacher was a spiritual guide who helped these people transcend the confines of mortality through her choreography.

Grades:
Nostalgia for the Light ***½
Pina ***