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A story of freedom

Even Jesus Was Bipolar
The film is able to rise above its given theme and to be critical of the consumer society's projected demands on the "man". 




(THIS ARTICLE IS MACHINE TRANSLATED by Google from Norwegian)

An undergrowth of life-threatening films is accelerating the more or less alternative arenas in the capital. Even Jesus Was Bipolar is a dandelion film that stands out, and it has already gained a foothold in several of Oslo's literary and artistic circles through screening at both the newcomer Kunstnernes Hus Kino and the Oslo Open.

Claustrophobic. Hypnotizing, blackening tropical forest lures inwardly into the portrayal of inevitable blindness. The claustrophobic, steaming vegetation darkens and gives an indication of what's on the way. Tight, precise directing sets this film apart from other similar projects.

This artistic documentary about a man who is both blind and diagnosed as bipolar arouses interest. It is well-composed and well thought out, and made entirely outside the known film financing system. Did this type of funding exempt Slavic filmmakers from following their theme? Has it provided greater openness to follow up on an extended and highly relevant theme?

In 2014, Yamile Calderón receives a phone call from Colombia while her parents visit her here in Norway. The brother is not just about to be blind – peaceful Hernando has begun to behave like a raging raging madman. Not long after, Calderón decides to make a film about his sick brother and invites Edward Cunniffe into an equal directing collaboration. The artist duo has been collaborating on various art projects ever since they met at Bergen Art Academy in 2006. Now they sit down and discuss visual and narrative strategy for the film project. The concept triggers a small support from the Visual Artists' Remuneration Fund – enough for plane tickets from Norway and some equipment. Already here, the duo has set the framework for the film: They will only follow Hernando's point of view and keep the chronology.

Sex and sugar. The protagonist is a modest and conflict-shy man who follows the expected path of college education and female boyfriend. In spite of his good fortune in life, he has never liked his own appearance, despite his regular features. He, on the other hand, has strongly denounced it.

Arm in arm with the blind sticks lifted they feel along the chaotic city street in Colombia.

Hernando goes through a transforming process. He apparently accepts his impending blindness and goes to a convent to find relief in Zen Buddhism. Something murmurs. Didn't the film promise me a bigger existential journey? Should Hernando just sit there, kind and quiet, and lose his sight? Luckily not. The movie jumps. Six months have passed, and Hernando is returning from his convent stay. He misses sex and sugar – and it's liberating with a main character who dares to feel and act!

The man who until now has seemed unpretentious and conventional, straightens his back and stands out more clearly. Through the obstacles of blindness and the violent fluctuations of bipolarity, he senses another "I" – a life he is first given the freedom to look for as he is freed from the overwhelming bombardment of the mass media. He begins to hear a new voice – his own – that previously drowned in all the noise.

Hernando recounts (freely retold): “Only when I could no longer see the projected expectation – the portrayal of the ideal man – did I begin to fall in love with myself. In the past, I always thought I was ugly. " The words seem absurd set up against the young man in the photograph. As mentioned, the features are regular and harmonious – an appealing, typically Latin American exterior. The blind, talking man has a completely different charisma than his former self. He is striking and self-aware. The film shows much of Hernando's resistance – to drugs that slowed down blindness, to curbing his manic phases. A search goes inwards where one of his eyes used to be; Hernando tells in detail how he himself tried to remove it, to dig it out.

Three blind people alone in the city. Then the film takes a new quantum leap. Hernando talks about how bipolarity also crystallizes an unsurpassed self-confidence, and also a repeated avoidance of food. He compares this phase of the disease to when Jesus returned from the desert after 40 days of fasting as a sovereign, confident Messiah. For Hernando has a typical bipolar action pattern. He confesses that in one of these phases of hubris he felt a strong urge to explore gay eroticism. After the manic phase has calmed down, he decides to take the step completely out.

Hernando discovers that many blind people are isolated and lack a social life. Powerful, he creates a blind group for nightlife. Arm in arm and with the logs raised, they feel their way along the chaotic city street. No sighted helpers are needed. This is a good thing, because blind people are not entitled to assistants in Colombia. The scene is a film historical gem of joy of life and personal revolt. At the same time, it conveys the vulnerability of Hernando's situation.

Miss and adventure. Hernando uses his disability and diagnosis to turn his life around. He refuses to look at himself as a victim. Yet it is with a certain sadness that he feels the need to have children. It is not the blindness, but the imbalance of bipolarity that makes him not see himself suitable for the parental role. His dreams are still in color, and waking up to total darkness is painful. At the same time, there is so much he now wants to try out.

A blind man looking for love. A surprisingly fast-paced scene. Hernando routinely throws himself on the back of a motorcycle and leaves in full confidence in a lover he has never seen or will ever see. What a courage to live!

The film was streamed to MODERN TIMES subscribers throughout February. 

Ellen Lande
Ellen Lande
Lande is a film writer and director and a regular writer for Ny Tid.

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