Warm Souls, Cold World
It was Friday night, and though the air outside was heavy with smoke, inside the whitewashed brick walls of City Hope, the mood was light. The guests enjoyed snacks and mingled — perhaps they’d find themselves talking to one of the filmmakers, many of whom were present that evening. Then the festival’s director, Fay Darmawi, took the stage to present the last night (for now) of SF Urban Film Fest; the weekend’s events had to be postponed due to poor air quality caused by the devastating Camp Fire. The theme of the evening’s films was, poignantly, home and homelessness.
The first film was Hotel 22 by Elizabeth Lo, an unflinching documentary of one night on Palo Alto’s 22 bus line, which has become an informal shelter. As homeless riders file on around 11pm, the driver barks out the rules, including “no lying down.” Heads begin to loll, the bumpy road and fluorescent lights making sleep uneasy. Someone begs for heat, and the driver won’t respond; at one point, a belligerent man gets on and calls a homeless passenger the n-word. At 4:30am, the driver gives the riders a rude awakening and hustles them off. In a few hours, the 22 will fill up with Silicon Valley workers.
Next came the premiere showing of Snow Mountain, which is also the directorial debut for photographer and writer Ed Ntiri. The film begins inside a cozy tent, lit by flashlights. A mother and her son are on a camping trip, and the boy’s homesick, so they play a game of closing their eyes and making wishes. Their dreams are filmed with a soothing low-budget surrealism that makes the twist that comes next all the more devastating.
The third film of the evening, Crisanto Street by Paloma Martinez, was a chance to see through the radiant eyes of Geovany Cesario, who shares a tiny trailer with his mom and two older siblings in the Bay Area. Martinez gave Geovany a camcorder and asked him to capture his life. The result is playful, funny, and unselfconsciously insightful, because Geovany is sweet, vivacious, and 9 years old. At the end of the movie, his family moves into an apartment, and Geovany is so excited that the film becomes a blur of walls and carpet. “There’s three rooms!” he shrieks, running to count them: “Uno, dos, tres!” It was impossible not to be moved.
The next film, Viva House by Ole Elfenkamper and Kathrin Sewarn, introduced the audience to Willa and Brendan in Baltimore, who serve the homeless hot meals in a comforting, communal environment that feels like being over at a friend’s place. The couple, in their 70s, have been local activists for decades, and believe service is central to a life well lived. Their radically charitable beliefs, like “People have a right to shelter, food, and safety” and “A neighborhood ought to be self-sustaining,” resonated within City Hope that evening.
Finally, Hamilton Henson took the stage for a “live film,” a speech interwoven with video clips. The subject of his performance, Albertino Garcia (who was also in the audience), is an artist who calls himself the “Angel in the Alley” because he looks out for the residents of Olive Street, his camcorder trained on the block below. Through that footage, interviews, and Henson’s live testimonial, an inspirational picture forms of Garcia, who out of suffering has built a life of service and gratitude.
Following the films, Ed Nitri, Hamilton Henson, and crowd favorite Geovany Cesario came up for a short directorial Q&A. When asked how he would define “home,” Geovany said, “I feel like I’m somewhere safe where I can be calm, and sleep.” That’s the feeling Reverend Paul Trudeau is creating with City Hope, which gives all residents their own bathroom, water, and internet. To discuss City Hope’s philosophy, Trudeau came onstage with Jose Pritchett, who was homeless from age 17 and now resides at City Hope as a drug and alcohol counselor (he tells everyone, “If I can make it, you can make it”). The shelter’s programming — restaurant service (no food line), game and movie nights, cooking classes — comes from a belief that people deserve dignity, respect, and community.
“Everybody’s got their story,” Pritchett said, with Trudeau adding, “What an honor it is to get to be part of their story.” As SF Urban Film Fest wrapped up its week of storytelling, those who had been lucky enough to be a part of it felt exactly the same way.
Dive into the panel discussion:
This event took place on November 16, 2018 at City Hope in San Francisco, and was co-presented by City Hope. For more information about SF Urban Film Fest, visit their website.
