Documentary – International / UK Premiere

Showing @ Filmhouse 2, Sun 19 June @ 18:00 & George Square Theatre, Wed 22 June @ 20:00

Jarred Alterman / Portugal / 2011 / 54 mins

Due to the sheer amount of them, there’s a certain tendency to complicate the role of the documentary in modern culture. From the political sympathy in Sam Green’s The Weather Underground to the eagle-eyed inquiry into the human condition in this year’s Project Nim, the investigative and positional side to filmmaking seems to supersede the role of plain documentation. Of course as discerning and valuable as this can be, the original nature of just bringing unheard stories to light can sometimes harbour an innocent minimalism which Jarred Alterman manages to capture in his ethereal Convento.

Exhibiting the life of a quite surreal Dutch family of artists, Alterman documents their day-to-day activities ranging from creating robots that help out with the chores to clearing the pond of weeds so the tortoises can swim freely. In the grounds of the Convento São Francisco de Mértola which the Zwanikken family bought in 1980, a once-untouched landscape finds itself altered and manipulated to house the innovative designs and duties of the family. What’s most interesting about this documentary is its presentation of a natural backdrop conflicting against the mechanised and routine processes of humanity. As kinetic sculptural artist Christiaan moulds and builds his weird alien-like robots from animal carcases and scrap machinery, there’s almost a side to the countryside which is destroyed. Yet what Alterman presents is a comprehensive account of art assisting the nature it is crafted from. Mother Geraldine, a former prima ballerina, grows vegetables and cooks for the family while her son Louis takes care of animals; and so the family stabilise an otherwise empty terrain, ripening its prospect of fusing with human creativity. Though the documentary lacks in pace and imagination, the marvel comes from its protagonists who are assisted by a hilltop breeze rustling the trees and grass, supplying the film with its own primitive soundtrack – a truly refreshing documentary at times for its pure modesty.