While they provide the skeleton of the narrative, the visual component of “Memories of a Burning Body” is handled by a few actors, primarily Sol Carballo, who act out the powerful recollections provided by the subject. The moment when they met their first love or when they challenged for a divorce is depicted with delightful imagination and through luminous photography; Carballo is often seen shuffling around a spacious home, going through rooms, pictures, and other items that trigger memories of former obstacles. Topics that were once taboo to discuss or weren’t taught to young women at all — what constitutes rape and the normalcy of domestic violence — are also touched upon. As is the specter of religion keeping women in a physically vicious relationship.
The trio of women speak with candor and wit, offering just as many zingers that engender a laugh as realities that make you sit in horror. But what is most fulfilling about Furniss’ film is hearing these women speak about the freedom — sexual or otherwise — they have found in their later years. They all sound confident, defiant, and sage — reminding you in a short 80-minute span that the beginning of one’s life doesn’t have to spoil the end.
I can barely remember my own birthday, but I know exactly which festivals and which years I saw certain movies. I still remember seeing Gustav Möller’s inventive Danish thriller “The Guilty” at the Music Box Theater as part of the Chicago Critics Film Festival. That film about a Danish cop assigned to an Emergency Call Center, who receives a panic-stricken call from a woman seemingly imperil, was so sturdily built around such a simple one-room set, I knew I’d be front and center for his next picture. So you can imagine my disappointment upon seeing his follow-up, “Vogter” (or “Sons”), and being totally unenthused.
Möller has a way with premises, I’ll give him that. And this one is just as unique, just as complicated and as morally complex as “The Guilty.” A beloved prison guard, if such a person exists, Eva (Sidse Babett Knudsen) teaches meditation and math lessons to the incarcerated men at her penitentiary. Those feel-good vibes change when the unpredictable, wildly violent Mikkel (Sebastian Bull) arrives as a new transfer. No one knows it, but Eva once had a son. He was murdered in prison by Mikkel, which, of course, creates a conflict of interest. Nevertheless, Eva keeps their past a secret (it helps that Mikkel has never met her before) and asks to be transferred from her quaint cell block to the more dangerous zone housing Mikkel. While there she tries to make his life a living hell until she beats him so savagely, he ends up in intensive care. The assault gives Mikkel his opening, if Eva will grant him favors – more time outside, access to other activities, and even a day pass – he promises not to press charges.