GOOD LUCK WAV D: Ben Russell. France/Germany. 143 min. Sep 11, 9:15 pm, TIFF Bell Lightbox 3 Sep 13, 3 pm, AGO, Rating: NNN
Labour seems to be sub-theme in this year’s Wavelengths program, with Pedro Pinho’s The Nothing Factory and Kazik Radwanski’s short Scaffold both focusing on men (and some women) doing physically demanding work.
Avant-garde American director and ethnographer Russell gives the topic a slow, trance-like treatment in Good Luck, a non-fiction film shot on 16 mm that contrasts two very different mining operations in order to suss out universal truths.
The film’s first half is set largely underground in the dim blue light of a state-owned copper mine in Bor, Serbia. In a series of long takes, Russell takes viewers down on the elevator ride, wanders through tunnels to capture drilling in the near-impenetrable darkness and hangs out with the crew on break time.
The second part travels to the sunnier surrounds at an open-air gold mine in Suriname’s Brokopondo district. The blue sky and muddy, rust-coloured slopes make for a dramatically different setting, but what transpires is similar, as Russell’s camera trails another collective of men, tags along on walks through the mine and captures the workers chatting about job conditions and prospects.
Russell makes some overt nods to politics and culture that disrupt the hermetic world of the mines. A circular symbol bisected with a line appears at the beginning and the end, giving the north-south divide a blunt visual representation. Staged musical performances – an accordion player somehow appears in the Bor mine – add a sense of melancholy drama.
On one hand, Good Luck is expressionistic and downright painterly in the way it captures light, darkness and colour to heighten mood. There are moments that feel almost sci-fi, but the film also reminds us that these men are firmly on earth. The deliberate pace and two-and-a-half-hour run time effectively impart the tedium of the miners’ jobs, while the conversational scenes and a series of charming black-and-white portraits give us a sense of personal stakes and a bit of levity.
