BLFF 2018 Short Film Review “Non Ora (Not Now)”
WATCH THE TRAILER HERE
First, the Recap:
Can it be said that it’s all a matter of perspective? We listen to the point of view of so many people each and every day, that it might be argued there are certain voices truly striving to be heard that get drowned out, unheeded, treated as insignificant, immaterial, irrelevant. Yes, it is these voices that should be heard. There is heard the voice of a woman (Alma Adelina Sejdini), sounding young and quietly vibrant, yet somehow hesitant and saddened. She hails from Albania, dreaming of what life could bring, notions of joy, love, marriage, and family, the perfect images of any adolescent girl. Of course, this would be in the perfect world that would remain only in reverie.
For the path of this girl (Angela Cervellieri), face constantly hidden by short locks as we find her wandering through a varying collection of places that hold specific meaning or memory, becomes the stuff of nightmare as she was abducted by a street gang and abused relentlessly and mercilessly. This is until they tire of her and sell her to another gang, who treat her likewise and sell her to another gang. A pattern of absolute terror, humiliation, and pain. It is the shunning by her family, the loss of identity, of self worth, of significance as she plies the trade she finds herself forced into. Yet, it forms her, molds her, and while scars remain, there may forever still be–hope.
Next, my Mind:
Truthfully, this is another shining example of why, as a critic, I completely, wholeheartedly love to support indie cinema on all levels. There is a deeply stirring, solemn lyricism intermixed with the emotionally-charged, narrative voiceover-based, image-driven 20-minute short film from writer/director/cinematographer/editor Andrea Laquidara that so engagingly plumbs the depths of one girl’s heartrending, gut-churning loss of innocence, even as she recollects the long-suffering aftermath and the sobering details of what state of being the tragic events have led her to. Without showing or having enacted a single moment of the girl’s actual experiences, the candid, potent beauty of words carries the story forward in such an indisputably expressive, passionate, unvarnished way, it’s like listening to someone read prose out loud to a certain extent, but simply in that more “direct-to-the-viewer” method, similar to a documentary without it being such.
Matching this style of execution with the basic but equally artistic utilization of the visuals portraying the initially enigmatic girl whose face is always hidden really aids in driving home the film’s thematic elements, especially as the girl’s journey unfolds, leading to one particular sequence, including specific musical accompiament, that would seem to highlight the ominousness of the subject being explored, a cautionary note, a statement of having greater awareness to human trafficking and the hugely important need to stand against it. But what then makes this film even more satisfying, for this reviewer anyway, is both the tone and “reveal” the finale delivers, providing the film with a needed breath of positivity that truly shows what real attractiveness is and how human beings are so amazingly capable of overcoming the adversities faced to then find ways by which to turn it all for the betterment of others, whether taking a while to figure out how or clearly evident from the circumstances experienced.
Sejdini does a wonderful job in offering her voice to tell this tale, as there’s an empowered forcefulness to it that sometimes might belie the fragile nature of the girl whose story is being told. It lends a more eloquent facet to how the narrative progresses combined with the imagery, perhaps even better than if the girl herself was actually doing the dialogue. The understated approach that Cervellieri adopts as the girl works to perfection here, solely using body language/motions/actions to “speak” in tandem with what is actually being spoken, allowing the viewer to have an all-encompassing emotional experience, even if subtly so, so as to really know the weight of what’s communicated throughout the film.
In total, when we consider “Non Ora (Not Now)”, it is a human story, a transparent voyage, a cleverly conceived social statement, a piece of art that is best understood and appreciated by seeing it and taking from it what each you will, with that ever-present challenge I often put forth of looking beyond the surface. Ideally, it would be another call to action for us as part of this thing called humanity to better equip ourselves to help those in need, be aware of what evil needs to be halted, take steps to do just that as we are able, and have bigger hearts and patience to listen to stories like this brought to vivid, impactful life through film. May none of our voices go unheard.
As always, this is all for your consideration and comment. Until next time, thank you for reading!
I think it’s a great work, vibrant and intense, worth watching again and again – super!