What do men, even in the twenty-first century, have against women? They owned us for centuries, disparaged us for wanting educations, denigrated us for wanting property, begrudged us jobs outside the home, our own money, equal pay and, most especially, independence. Women were only “granted” the right to vote in the early twentieth century. Once women filled jobs in munitions, law enforcement, railway, postal, farming etc. during the First World War, their claim that we were physically and mentally inferior was too ludicrous to support. Women’s rights, according to Amnesty International, include “...the right to live free from violence and discrimination; to enjoy the highest attainable standard of physical and mental health…”
Who wouldn’t like a SECOND CHANCE sometimes? Nia’s (Dheera Johnson) world shatters when, sans her boyfriend, she makes a profound personal decision. Her busy, preoccupied parents don’t think it unusual when she wants to go to their summer home; they phone ahead to let the caretakers know. Nia reasons she will recover better far from the city. The rustic house’s memories, mementos give solace; its remoteness, solitude, its natural surroundings and long walks, peace. Although late winter there are patchworks of snow, also crowning the distant Himalayan peaks. When the caretaker is called away, Bhemi (Thakri Devi), his mother-in-law, quietly takes over delivering homemade meals and maintaining the house, while her grandson Sunny’s impish games are amusing for Nia to watch. Joining them on an excursion to a higher elevation, the shepherd and Bhemi’s conversation gives Nia an idea. A local friend reaches out; responding, Nia finds herself smiling, dancing. Curtailed by a medical problem, Nia confides in and trusts Bhemi; during heartfelt conversations the senior gives the younger woman a nonjudgemental way of thinking about her choice. Surprising herself, Nia and Sunny begin bonding, teaching/showing one another new games. Her boyfriend’s unexpected appearance, and her reaction signals change, growth, newly developed strength. By the time they close the house, their paths may diverge, but their deep friendship’s effect will last a lifetime.
Writer-director Subhadra Mahajan’s quiet debut film speaks volumes about women’s dauntedlessness, and societies. Centered on a young woman’s traumatic experience, the Indian director’s inspiration was to tell a story about healing, about humans’ relationship with nature, and unlikely friendships—about choices and chance. Her minimalistic style has a major impact on the film’s pathos and deeply felt fortitude. The cast excels; the sensitive cinematography’s (Swapnil S. Sonawane) cozy comfort amongst Mother Nature’s grandeur and wildlife’s details embraces the narrative with enthusiasm and fullness, its message clear.
In 2001, Spain’s first case of a politician being convicted of sexual harassment occurred when Nevenka Fernández filed a complaint against the popular mayor of Ponferrada, in northwest Castile and León. An economist working in Madrid and finishing a masters in auditing, in 1999 Nevenka (Mireia Oriol) is approached by her hometown’s Populist Party to join as number three with Ismael Álvarez (Urko Olazabal) at the top of the ticket in the approaching election. Flattered but politically naive, she asks her parents (Pepo Suevos, Mabel del Pozo) and others for advice; more than once she’s warned about Ismael’s womanizing. Once in office, her headiness is blunted by the steep learning curve—colleagues aren’t always patient. Long days often stretch into the evening, the mayor’s recognition, guidance, and attentiveness is valued. Then rewarded. It’s waning, though, when during a school reunion in Madrid, she and good friend Lucas (Ricardo Gómez) recognize there’s more to their feelings. The ensuing problem—Ismael not accepting that the affair is over—gets out of control by his prolonging any official time they’re together, phoning often—up to thirty times a day, etcetera. Nevenka, stressed-out, depressed asks for time off; it’s refused, and Ismael Álvarez’s nastier. Lucas helps and supports her denouncement of Mayor Álvarez for sexual harassment. The reality is, it’s lonely being brave, as the party, colleagues, and friends continue supporting Álvarez. It’s she who’s scrutinized, challenged. In the courtroom simply saying, “I am Nevenka…” causes Álvarez’s pit-bull attorney to charge; she subsequently wins. Afterward, unable to find work Nevenka and Lucas emigrate to England; they now reside in Ireland.
In SOY NEVENKA, Spanish director Icíar Bollaín casts her cool female eye on the problematic, age-old sexual harassment in the workplace. The cowritten screenplay with Isa Campo dramatizes a factual event; Nevenka’s unsophistication and lack of judgement is shown with minimum sympathy. The consequences, particularly regarding fully aware and knowledgeable people staying silent and Álvarez’s machismo behavior, are judiciously, empathetically exhibited. The cast is accomplished, Mireia Oriol outstanding. Production values are strong, sets clear-cut; denied necessary municipal permits in Ponferrada, filming took place in Zamora.
Both films, in their own way, highlight the cost and effect on women of male cowardice, crassness, and misogynistic actions. SOY NEVENKA clarifies what harassment is and its debilitating effect, plus how the victim is doubly victimized by societal foolishness and mindlessness. Women are tired of menfolk’s bad behavior. Through synergy, brave leaders, and determination, women are setting new courses, aspiring to greater heights, and with fairness for guidance.