First of all, sorry for all the details in the following review, but I guess those of you interested in this film may find them useful.
Having followed Gatlif's progression as a filmmaker from the early 90s onwards - I still have his 80s works to catch -, I've been wondering for quite some time when he would tackle the Porraimos, the 'Devouring' in Nazi-occupied Europe which left 250-500.000 Sinti and Roma dead. It's a sadly neglected aspect of the Holocaust, and neglected for a reason: the stereotypes and social conditions which make Gypsies easy targets for fanaticism and slander are still very much in check, as demonstrated by the recent forceful deportations of Roma from France, Gatlif's home country.
Unfortunately, Gatlif's usual strengths translate as weaknesses when it comes to the story structure such an issue calls for. His films are great when they center around music and place the characters around it (Gadjo Dilo, Latcho Drom, Swing). They are weak when the focus is on the characters proper, for Gatlif invariably attempts to create rather a tableau of images than empathy with the protagonist's dilemmas (Exiles), or, even worse, when he appeals to romanticist views of Gypsies for the sake of accessibility (Transylvania).
In the case of 'Freedom', all these weaknesses come into full swing: there's next to zero character development, which results in very weak story structure. There's little music to render the admittedly great cinematography alive. The scenes of Gypsies in (French) internment camps are long, dreary and lifeless - the controversial fact that French police collaborated with the Nazi Regime, which later deported the Gypsies to death camps, is somewhat alluded to (in the character of the limping agent) but incomprehensibly so if you don't know already.
This ambiguity may be explained by the fact that Sinti and Roma rarely discuss the Holocaust due to taboos in regard to the dead. It's one of the most important aspects of Roma culture and again alluded to in the scene where the Kumpania ('extended family') refuses to use a house for fear of the spirits of the dead (muló). If you are wondering why there are so little films and books dealing with the Holocaust in spite of its impact on the Roma - that would be the most important reason. This also explains the blatant anachronism to use Romanian Roma (who speak a Transylvanian dialect of Romanes) instead of French Manouche (who speak Sinti Romanes, a different language): the (Western European) Sinti were wiped out by the Nazis to an extent of about 80%, their culture was almost completely annihilated, therefore they understandably reluctant to participate in reenactments of this catastrophe. The (Eastern European) Roma were also persecuted to an appalling extent, but their social structure survived, which may allow them to enact the persecution with more confidence.
Still, Gatlif himself has illustrated a much better way to deal with this silence in 'Latcho Drom', in a shot of an old woman singing a lament, with the camera just brushing over her arm - and her tattooed Auschwitz internment number. Given that the (silent) way Gipsies deal with the Holocaust is fundamentally different from that of most Jewish groups, this kind of symbolism would probably have been more appropriate and artistically successful. As it is, 'Korkoro' is still quite important being the first film by a Gypsy film maker to deal with the subject. But judged by itself, it's a failure, and not a very interesting one to watch failing.
Having followed Gatlif's progression as a filmmaker from the early 90s onwards - I still have his 80s works to catch -, I've been wondering for quite some time when he would tackle the Porraimos, the 'Devouring' in Nazi-occupied Europe which left 250-500.000 Sinti and Roma dead. It's a sadly neglected aspect of the Holocaust, and neglected for a reason: the stereotypes and social conditions which make Gypsies easy targets for fanaticism and slander are still very much in check, as demonstrated by the recent forceful deportations of Roma from France, Gatlif's home country.
Unfortunately, Gatlif's usual strengths translate as weaknesses when it comes to the story structure such an issue calls for. His films are great when they center around music and place the characters around it (Gadjo Dilo, Latcho Drom, Swing). They are weak when the focus is on the characters proper, for Gatlif invariably attempts to create rather a tableau of images than empathy with the protagonist's dilemmas (Exiles), or, even worse, when he appeals to romanticist views of Gypsies for the sake of accessibility (Transylvania).
In the case of 'Freedom', all these weaknesses come into full swing: there's next to zero character development, which results in very weak story structure. There's little music to render the admittedly great cinematography alive. The scenes of Gypsies in (French) internment camps are long, dreary and lifeless - the controversial fact that French police collaborated with the Nazi Regime, which later deported the Gypsies to death camps, is somewhat alluded to (in the character of the limping agent) but incomprehensibly so if you don't know already.
This ambiguity may be explained by the fact that Sinti and Roma rarely discuss the Holocaust due to taboos in regard to the dead. It's one of the most important aspects of Roma culture and again alluded to in the scene where the Kumpania ('extended family') refuses to use a house for fear of the spirits of the dead (muló). If you are wondering why there are so little films and books dealing with the Holocaust in spite of its impact on the Roma - that would be the most important reason. This also explains the blatant anachronism to use Romanian Roma (who speak a Transylvanian dialect of Romanes) instead of French Manouche (who speak Sinti Romanes, a different language): the (Western European) Sinti were wiped out by the Nazis to an extent of about 80%, their culture was almost completely annihilated, therefore they understandably reluctant to participate in reenactments of this catastrophe. The (Eastern European) Roma were also persecuted to an appalling extent, but their social structure survived, which may allow them to enact the persecution with more confidence.
Still, Gatlif himself has illustrated a much better way to deal with this silence in 'Latcho Drom', in a shot of an old woman singing a lament, with the camera just brushing over her arm - and her tattooed Auschwitz internment number. Given that the (silent) way Gipsies deal with the Holocaust is fundamentally different from that of most Jewish groups, this kind of symbolism would probably have been more appropriate and artistically successful. As it is, 'Korkoro' is still quite important being the first film by a Gypsy film maker to deal with the subject. But judged by itself, it's a failure, and not a very interesting one to watch failing.