Dream stories. Dreams as a passage into parallel worlds, erasing the limits between the real and the unreal, between life and death.
Morocco
102 Archival description results for Morocco
“I wanted to live like modern women who live love”, says Fadma, now an elderly Berber lady, once employed by the French colonial army as a companion for soldiers during the Indo-China wars. Far from nostalgic or regretful, she makes for a open and utterly compelling central character in Dalila Ennadre's frank and intimate portrait of these Moroccan “comfort women” and their lives after the war. In the process, the film opens up a fascinating picture of a great sweep of Moroccan history.
Under the benevolent shadow of Jean Genet, buried in Morocco, this film is a dialogue between the living and the dead, an invitation to bring those realms together, between silent humanist revolt and poetic elegy. A family takes loving care of a white tomb, in a cemetery with a view of the sea. We are in Larache, south of Tangier, where Jean Genet lived the last ten years of his life. Today, the writer is finally home, among his own. And for the locals of the city, he is a legend.Few of them actually knew him. Still fewer have read him. Most all have reinvented him for themselves. Everyone has their own story to tell. But they all agree on onething: “Jon Joney” valued them. He was on their side. Thesesimple, poor, quite frankly invisible individuals form the voiceless and futureless people of Morocco. Living incarnations of the characters in hiswork, they now keep watch over his grave.
UntitledThe life story of an elderly Mauritanian woman, Aïcha Messaoud, who spent her whole life as part of Sheik Ma-el-Aïnïne's distinguished family of nomads and now lives in the small Moroccan village of Tata, in the northern part of Western Sahara. The filmmaker sets out to trace the memories of her heroine. Stage after stage, she travels through thousands of kilometres across the desert, encountering the descendants of the Sheik.
UntitledThe tragic participation of Africans from the French colonies in major world conflicts is a very important issue. We have just commemorated the 60th Anniversary of the Liberation of Europe. Unfortunately, not a single African or Asian who fought alongside the allies has been honoured together with his French, American and English brothers in arms....
UntitledA conversation with a woman who washes and massages the women who go to the hammam (public baths), helps bring the neighbourhood children into the world, and to wash the dead.
Anonymous guide. Fes el Bali, the old medina of Fez founded in 809 by Idris II, is still completely contained within city walls. The gates (Bab Bou Jeloud, Bab Fteuh, Bab Er Rsif, Bab Guissa...) therefore retain all their social and symbolic value, associated with the different activities of the city and its inhabitants.
The search for water, the descent deep into the well of the heart. Based on a 17th Century Persian poem by Najmudin Kubra. The most probable is that sooner or later we will meet in an apparently dry and arid wilderness. Unexpectedly our footsteps have left us there, all roads are possible, but none of them seem to lead anywhere. In our loneliness we find that contemplation is our only company, the quiet gaze shows us a quiet world, a world that slowly begins to show itself outside of the parameters of desire or functionality to be a world with no outside or inside. Now we understand better, that that which we see is no stranger to us and this journey takes on a diverse and interpretative sense. A small group of men appears in the distance, we go closer and follow them. One of them is a water diviner, he looks for water with an olive branch, his steps are quick, suddenly, as if receiving a blow he falters, and perhaps will fall, we fall... On a dry bush in the wilderness a few small flowers have bloomed, our steps now pass over a path of dust, stones, brambles and acacia, crossing gates, and whispers, murmurs, or laughter of children... Lying on the dirt, like the dirt, so that a well can open in our chest and consciousness can descend close to the heart, there we will see without words, with the sounds of heartbeat breathing, a reminder of the place we come from, of where we belong, from where appearance springs, like those clouds that form whimsical figures that linger only a moment... A search for what there is of life in us. The presence of that which makes us live. Video Serie: El Hamdulillah Tapes.
"A collaboration with writer Lucy Sante made in Tangier, Morocco, a city where neither of us had ever been. En route from the airport to the city center, we found ourselves amazed by the landscape outside of the car windows; a massive construction project under way in all directions. While not in itself unusual, we were by struck dumb by the epic scale and seemingly incomprehensible plan of the development and were drawn to return together to this puzzling zone".
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