Nevinost bez zaštite is a treasure trove. Of fantastic people, feats, footage, and genres. We sit down to watch #Serbia's first feature talkie, also named Nevinost bez zaštite (1943), and are joined by the people who created it.

“Dragoljub Son of our native land! Teeth and muscles, Tried and true All our hearts go out to you!”

While they speak, and occasionally burst out into song, about living in Yugoslavia under Nazi, then communist control, we meet Dragoljub!, the movie's lead with the jaws of steel. A man of great works, humanitarian and other, demonstrates his iron will. And while so, we all, starstruck and in love, sing:

“When they hammer your head, The skull is hard, And never cracks, Mother's little babe of steel! Dragoljub Son of our native land!”

At night, a small group of prostitutes frequent a local 面薄 / mee pok #restaurant. One of them, Bunny (Michelle Goh), caught the hawker's eye, but she's not interested in the “mee pok” (the “fish ball”, as they call the vendor) (Joe Ng) and besides she has a boyfriend. Then, a car crash. Bunny is left for dead in front of the eatery. He takes her in, preparing endless meals

Not a film you can be prepared for, Padre padrone. The author, Gavino Ledda, hands a stick – that stick – to the actor who plays his part. There we are, in Sardinia, beautiful Sardinia. A boy in class, learning. His father barges in: the boy must attend the sheep, or else. From that moment on we become that boy Gavino. Life's cruel on the island, but his father, his master, is worse. But that's how it is, there's sheep to herd. When Gavino enlist in the army, he encounters a new world. The precise world of electronics, other people, other sounds, the Italian #language. When he returns home, he finds his father a small man.

“Don't laugh at Gavino. Hands on your desks! Today is Gavino's turn. Tomorrow will be yours.”

– father

In a 1977 New York Times article the Taviani's are cited as seeing Gavino in the same light as #Truffaut's L'Enfant sauvage (1970) and #Herzog's Kaspar Hauser (Jeder für sich und Gott gegen alle) (1974). However, the Sardinian boy's outsiderness is not caused by estrangement, but an immense loneliness that cannot be put into words. This is why Ledda's newfound language is such an important tool. It's not a stick, or a fist, or a dead snake. It's the foundation of his Home.

On the #SantaMonica pier, sailor Johnny falls in love with one of the attractions of the local #sideshow, Mora the Mermaid. As people warn Johnny about the faith of Mora's previous suitors, captivated, he becomes convinced that she is a real siren, planning his downfall.

– Yes, I love the sea most of all. But I'm afraid of it, too.

– I guess we're all a little afraid of what we love.

Night Tide is a vital key to understanding the odd connection between Hollywood and the workings of #Thelema. Several involved – Marjorie Cameron (as the “Water Witch”), #drag trapeze artist and once-Jean #Cocteau's lover Barbette – moved in Thelemic and related #occult, #esoteric circles. Painter Paul Mathison, Night Tide extra and crew member, created backdrops for the works of the great Lucifer himself, #KennethAnger.

 

This, lost dreamlike L.A. is gone; a treasure like Night Tide serves as a reminder of a more spellbinding Hollywood.

It's another school day in rural America when the #NuclearAttack alarm starts ringing. A teacher, instructed to calmly walk the kids home, tries to keep the youngest ones oblivious of the impending doom.

“Ladybug, ladybug, Fly away home”

children's song

While the children walk, talk and sing, this thing up there, in the sky and in the mind, grows bigger.

In the children's film Valahol Európában, a gang of plundering feral orphans hiding out in a ruined castle find an old disillusioned pacifist conductor (Artúr Somlay) who's waiting out the war.

'Twas the week before Christmas. Not too far from Copenhagen a helicopter lands, carrying #SantaClaus and a Christmas angel. A small welcome orchestra plays carols, after which the party makes its way to the Danish capital. There, more Santas join the duo.

“Here Santa opens a factory with 1000 workers”

– banner next to a Julemandshæren-occupied factory

Over the course of several days they bring cheer, song and hot chocolate to delighted Copenhagen Christmas shoppers. Then they show up at a local bank, demanding low-interest loans. Then, in support of the laid-off workers, they unroll a large banner at the recently shutdown General Motors factory. On the final day, Santa Claus visits Magasin, the Danish version of Macy's. In the true spirit of Christmas the Julemandshæren hands out the store's books to thrilled customers. Magasin staff is not amused. Some of them start pummelling the Santas, ripping off beards to prove that these are crooks, not real #Santa​s. Small children are in tears, their dreams of a just world shattered.

 

The Santas were a gift to the workers from Solvognen, Fristaden Christiania's anarchist theatre troupe. With disruptive, meticulously planned performances they sought to bring attention to social issues such as worker's rights, the massacre of Wounded Knee and – as late as 2006 – Guantanamo Bay.

Commissioned by the #PanAfrican literary magazine Présence Africaine to make a short film about African art, Chris Marker and his collaborator Alain Resnais – the latter still emboldened by his Van Gogh (1948) – were struck that unlike the Dutch painter's work, this #art was not on display in the Louvre or a similar cultural temple, but in the ethnological Musée de l'Homme.

“An object dies when the living glance trained upon it disappears. And when we disappear, our objects will be confined to the place where we send black things: to the museum.”

– narrator

These works of “Negro” art that embody such a deep cultural and artistic significance for the creators and the people they are part of, were, within the boundaries of Western civilisation, merely things. The editing (Alain Resnais), photography (Ghislain Cloquet) and dialogue (Chris Marker) bring life to these works. Through these voices they speak to the viewer, escaping the institutes' walls.

 

This voice was enough for the CNC to censor Les statues meurent aussi; only the first third of the film, the segment that's not blatantly #AntiColonial, was to be watched. And to this day, the documentary still has not seen a restored, digital release.

A disaster has struck the future world. A private one, Karen's sister has had an accident. And a global one, one so severe that a Government project is put in place. The Project, located in the #Idaho desert and in different points in time, transfers teenagers 56 years forward so to repopulate the to-be-wiped-out land. Then, without warning or reason, The Project shuts down and the kids strand into a deserted future.

“Esto Perpetua”

– Idaho state motto

Idaho Transfer is, even for early 70s standards, an odd affair. It carries the weight of its time – hippie optimism had died thanks to #Manson, US meddling in Vietnam, the impending #EcoCrisis (we knew, we always did…) – but there too was this optimism for the upcoming millennium. Everything was going to be fine, in The Future. We'll be wiser, no more wars, no more famine, technology will save us. Released just 4 months before the first Oil Shock, Fonda somehow transferred a glimpse of our future.

Monsieur #Hulot – who in his final appearance happens to be an automobile designer – travels to a car show in Amsterdam to demonstrate his latest creation, a camper van par excellence. The vehicle of course accommodates the latest gadgets, such as a collapsible grill.

“Where are you going, Mr. Hulot?”

However regarded as a lesser #Tati, Trafic, is another display of lovingly choreographed insanity, notably a #CarCrash that makes me wonder if this was Tati's attempt to transpose Godard's Week-end (1967) into a pleasant, pre-May 68 France.