[The Film Verdict] Variations on 360 Degrees

As one might expect, the Venice Immersive selection places a lot of emphasis on the 360-degree experience, whether it be an interactive game or a more conventional, passive role for the spectator. So, for our final Immersive dispatch of the festival, this writer decided to do a roundup of the more interesting variations on that theme: three in the main competition and one in the Biennale College Cinema VR out-of-competition strand.

The latter was arguably the most harrowing title in the entire selection, at least based on the loglines and what we managed to see during our stay on Immersive Island: Tales of the March, directed by Stefano Casertano. Likely to be a hit -– in as much as that word applies in this context — among history buffs, the experience is divided in two: the first half is the film, a re-enactment of one of the death marches organized by the SS to move prisoners from concentration camps in Poland to Germany. Tim Stephenson voices Eithan, the protagonist, with narration based on recollections by survivors. While the march itself provides a clear focal point (at least in the early stretches of the film), the viewer is consistently capable of moving around and taking in the full breadth of the surrounding landscape, be it a street or a forest. Adding to the stark realism, the room used for the experience on Immersive Island had its floor paved with gravel.

Once the main segment is over, the 360-degree setting is occupied by various stills, and by clicking on them with the controller we can hear additional testimonies, providing a more complete picture of an atrocity – the last act of the Holocaust – that involved some 700,000 prisoners of the Nazi regime. It’s far from an easy watch, or listen, but essential at a time when recorded statements acquire even more importance as the number of living perpetrators, witnesses and survivors keeps decreasing with each passing year. One thinks of the work of someone like Laurence Rees, the British historian who, for the same reason, endeavored to talk to as many people as possible who had direct experience of the major World War II dictatorships.

History is also at the forefront of the Korean competition entry Comfortless, a 15-minute trek into the past. Specifically, to the late 1960s, when the U.S. Air Force Base in Kunsun, South Korea became the reference point for the construction of a brothel, whose clientele was exclusively associated with the American military. As director Gina Kim started working on Comfortless, the area then known as American Town was designated a redevelopment area, with the brothel the first venue scheduled for demolition. As such, the project became a race against time to document a piece of the recent past. Shot on the actual site, the film alternates between the present-day ghost town and echoes (aural and visual) of bygone decades. The VR setup allows for a complete view of every inch of the now dilapidated street, a relic of consumerism at its most basic.

The title may be a mouthful, but Remember this place: 31°20’46”N 34°46’46”E, directed by Patricia Echevarria Liras, is another rewarding experience, also dealing with displacement and demolition. Exploring the notion of what “home” means, the filmmaker builds on her experience talking to various Bedouin women who consistently face the threat of having their houses torn apart in the Occupied Palestinian Territory. Blending words (the controller takes the shape of a journal), images and sounds, the project is a powerful look at the multiple implications of the desert landscape, within which the occasional home appears in front of (or, more often than not, around) us.

Finally, Perennials, by Zoe Roellin, also explores the topic of what people call their home, in the shape of a CGI animation about a young man and his even younger niece coming to terms with the meaning of the family’s abandoned vacation house, after the death of the man’s estranged father. It’s a very simple story, well told over the course of its 20 minutes, with the added value of VR used to play with the idea of space. All interior scenes are confined within a 90-degree angle, conveying the sense of claustrophobia our young protagonist feels in a place that puts him ill at ease, while the exteriors take full advantage of the 360-degree camera, as the characters and the viewer discover a new-found freedom and the film, true to the name of the section, enables us to truly immerse ourselves in the narrative.

— Max Borg, 6 September 2023

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