This is a busy month for local film: The ACT Human Rights Festival runs in Ft. Collins from 4/3–4/7, the Woman+Film Festival screens at the Sie from 4/10–4/14, and we have a wonderful film screening at The Cube on 4/5 @ 6:30pm. More below, and I also owe you two Oscar reviews; I give you one this month and one next. To the films.

Seven Winters in Tehran (2022)

Screening and discussion on Friday, 4/5 @ 6:30pm: The Cube, 8371 Northfield Blvd.

I hope you can join us for this fascinating documentary that takes us into Iran for the story of Reyhaneh Jabarri, a 19-yr-old woman who was sexually assaulted by a man in 2007. She fought him off, killed him in the attack, and under Iranian law, the man’s family was allowed to choose the punishment. They chose death by hanging. Reyhaneh spent seven years in prison as her family (led by her ferocious mother) fought for her release.

The German production by director Steffi Niederzoll uses news footage, secret recordings by her mother, Reyhaneh’s own letters (voiced by Iranian actress Zar Amir Ebrahimi), and various interviews to tell the painful story. It is an important and difficult look at a fairly closed society and justice system, but at the same time, there is hope in the activism and determination of Reyhaneh’s family. Few films I’ve seen in person have kept an audience so completely rapt and had such an emotional impact. I know it will be the same for you.

We will screen the film followed by a prerecorded Zoom interview with director Niederzoll. Tickets are only $10 and include popcorn and drink (including wine/beer): https://www.mca80238.com/event-calendar/seven-winters-in-tehran.

The following two films are playing at the ACT Human Rights Film Festival in Ft. Collins. This gem of a festival takes place in our backyard, so please support them and attend some films—either online or in person. Information and tickets: https://act2024.eventive.org/welcome

The Body Politic (2023)

The intriguing documentary gives us an all-access pass to the youngest mayor in the history of Baltimore, Brandon Scott, as he took office in 2020. We see him at the close of the campaign and then follow his first year as he navigates the politics, his new (and controversial) public safety initiatives, the daily grind, and the highs and lows of being in such a polemical position.

Change never comes easy, but this impressive and charismatic leader is dogged in his pursuit of reducing Baltimore crime in a city, state, and country that seem at odds with him. He deserves our time, as does director Gabriel Frances Pax Goodenough with this unflinching film.

In person screening: 5:30pm Sunday 4/7 @ The Lyric. See the schedule for online options.

Mediha (2023)

This gripping documentary is the story of Mediha, an Iraqi refugee who was separated from her family, sold into slavery, and then eventually reunited with some of that family over the course of several years. It is heartbreaking, agonizing, and frustrating, but it also has just enough hope that she—and many others in her situation—may find some peace.

A bit of context is needed: Mediha is part of the ethnic and religious minority Yazidis of northern Iraq. ISIS took over her village in 2014 and orchestrated a genocide that killed tens of thousands, separated families, and sent women and young girls into captivity/slavery. Mediha was sold when she was ten years old and then several times afterward. We meet her a few years later in a Syrian refugee camp after her uncle found her. She was reunited with two brothers, and as the film unfolds, they try to find another brother and her mother. Her father is presumed dead.

Mediha keeps a video diary about her life in the camp where we hear her horrible story, but we also hear her hopes and dreams. Perhaps, someday, she can realize those. This is another wonderful and heartfelt film that deserves your attention.

In-person screening: 6:30pm, Thursday 4/4 @ The Lyric. See the schedule for online options.

Finally, I owe you some Oscar films.

The Zone of Interest (2022)

This one will sit with you for a long time: a Holocaust film that doesn’t show the inside of a concentration camp, but rather, this unique, bleak, and fascinating film shows us just outside the walls of Auschwitz. We follow the Commandant of the horrific nightmare of a “camp” and the idyllic—albeit farcical and venal—life of his family who live, literally, on the other side of the wall. They have a garden, a spacious greenhouse, a small pool, a veranda, and a tidy and well-appointed house staffed by young, local Polish girls. One of those girls offers us the smallest glimmer of humanity in her nightly, clandestine escapades around the camp leaving food for the prisoners (shot in a jarring night-vision, rotoscoped, fantastical vision).

The mother of this den is Heddy, played by Sandra Hüller as a ferocious, spiteful, and stomping force of nature who may be the scariest character. Is she the personification of the banality of evil? Or is she just plain evil? After seeing this film, we may want to rethink that adage coined by Hannah Arendt.

For me, the film is frightening, but it is also close: a closeness that is reached through allegory, and that is what makes it all so frightening. Are we seeing a story about us? Does the film tell us we are living outside the walls of something awful and evil, and we refuse to look over because we are comfortable and safe? In the world of the film, we know exactly what is happening beyond the barbed-wired walls we see, and the gunshots, screams, and admonishments we hear. But do we hear the hum—the underlying hum of the incinerator that gurgles endlessly? The film asks us to identify that hum; the question is, what do we do about it? And what is the hum that we are missing in our own lives?

Available on streaming outlets.

Vincent Piturro, PhD, is a Professor of Film and Media Studies at MSU Denver. Contact him directly at vpiturro@msudenver.com or follow him on Twitter. For more reviews, search The Indie Prof at FrontPorchNE.com.