2016
Why do we write? When words erupt from the mind and pour into the heart, images and monologues take the place of daily tedium—of the mundane, the irritating, the unbearable. For some writers, however, writing is more than expression; it is salvation. It is an unshakable calling. In this themed selection on literature, Giloo presents documentaries that delve into the lives and inner worlds of writers—poets, novelists, critics—who wield pens (or typewriters) like swords, fearlessly confronting the truths of the world. The passage of time leaves behind not just pages, but marks of introspection—quiet yet undeniable badges of their creative journey.
From atypical figures to trailblazers, how did the artists of the last century transform the meaning and form of viewing? Following the destruction of order by world wars, the human desire to reshape new values manifested in Dadaism's anti-mainstream stance, student movements' anti-authoritarianism, hippies' anti-war sentiments, and the civil rights movement. Diverse social trends nourished artistic thought, and an anti-traditional fervor spread globally. These artists challenged established social norms, extending existing art forms to the very boundaries of perception and vision. This film list draws inspiration from Fluxus artist and "Rainbow Artist" Ay-O.
In today’s society, where everything is measured by “efficiency,” the value and effectiveness of “art” and “making art” are constantly questioned. The themed selection What Art Can Do reveals that the act of creating art defies quantifiable KPIs. Artistic creation can withstand the challenges of value-driven thinking—if we are willing to rethink what “value” truly means. After all, every interpretation of value begins with humanity.
To document an extraordinary soul through the lens is to constantly wrestle with the dilemma of completeness. How can one capture the vastness of a life within the limited time of a film? It challenges the filmmaker’s depth of understanding and precision of perspective. Rather than striving for an all-encompassing portrait, it may be more powerful to focus on select moments—those glimmers that illuminate the subject’s essence. The camera becomes not only a tool to pierce through the surface, but also a means for sincere conversation with the person in front of it.
Dialogue takes practice—whether with others or with yourself. How do we find common ground when our values differ? And how do we learn to live with the parts of ourselves that feel unfamiliar? Through conversation, we not only get to know and draw closer to others, but also begin to see our own place in relationships—and in the world—with greater clarity. It is in these moments that we become more willing to walk alongside others, with openness and care.
"Everything is scattered, and yet everything is exactly where it should be." —The Watchmaker People often ask me, “Is this a good film?” But whether a film is “good” is deeply personal—it often depends on our own life experiences and what we project onto the screen. There’s no special reason for this list, really. After watching nearly 90% of the films on Giloo, these are the ones that still make my heart skip a beat whenever I see their titles. A truly my top-of-the-top picks playlist—curated by feeling, not formula.
We each reconcile with the world in our own way, and everyone has their shining moments. But how do we become a glowing stone in the mire of life? It's about loving all the unknowns on the path ahead, just like the diverse characters inhabiting films. In different eras and settings, for a fleeting moment, similar emotions resonate, and then you realize that those beautiful or weary faces on screen can be you, and can be me. And our faces will all be gently caressed by the same breeze. It turns out, we exist for these very moments.
Every day, we're redefining time: measuring the distance of a walk or commute in time, that socially awkward moment on a Monday or Friday, climate anomalies causing red maples to arrive early and fade late, the tense of making a takeaway coffee, the excessively long summer days in Europe, the timezone of late-night runs along riverbanks or tracks, the time difference making long-distance relationships between New Zealand and France so difficult. Time in its myriad forms, time in the plural, a museum of time. I love contemplating how artists think about time: spinning, leaping, with eyes closed; sometimes between waking and sleeping, but more often, collecting time itself.
Answer the call of instinct—leave behind the trivialities of daily life and embark on a pilgrimage of encounters with nature and literary exploration. On these journeys of adventure, where limits are tested and boundaries redefined, the soul is transformed. These inseparable life experiences continue to inspire others to move toward distant light. As we listen to their stories, may we too be moved to shoulder our backpacks—and set out to meet a new version of ourselves.