CPH:DOX 2021: He’s My Brother | Review
In He’s My Brother, a talented duo of filmmakers (director Cille Hannibal and co-director Christine Hanberg) delivers a strong and poignant tale on pure love, dedication and humanity.
There are films that stay with you for a long time, that mark you deep inside, and keep living in your head for a while, or even longer. We were lucky to discover such a film at this year’s CPH:DOX, as part of the Nordic:DOX Competition. Directed by Cille Hannibal and co-directed by Christine Hanberg – who is herself a character in the film, not only does He’s My Brother (original title: Skyggebarn) deal with a strong, poignant topic, but it is also an absorbing and brilliant documentary, which received a much deserved Special Mention at the Copenhagen-based festival.
The film opens with a highly metaphorical scene: Christine and her brother Peter are embarked on a roller coaster. Together, facing life’s ups and downs, while shining before our eyes. On top of being emotional from the first frame, the film introduces us to the main components of its tale: a beautifully strong and touching relationship between a brother and a sister, amidst life’s strongest challenges and unpredictability.
Thirty years ago, Peter was born deaf and blind. His experience of life is truly unique. Guided by his younger sister’s profound love for him, Peter experiences life through touch, smell and taste. The first sequences of the film allow us to realize both the uniqueness of such a situation and the struggles it entails. The film walks us through Peter’s daily life, and daily struggles. We are introduced to two humbling human beings: Christine, Peter’s younger sister, and her mother, who have dedicated their lives to support, guide, and take care of Peter. They have developed their ways of communicating and interacting with him. Many scenes and archive footage show the pure beauty of the complicity and trust they have built together. Growing up, Peter has benefited from his family’s unwavering support. It is both moving and exhilarating to see how Christine and her mother have enhanced their own senses to be able to connect and interact with Peter, through a tactile sign language. At the same time, one easily realizes how demanding taking care of Peter has been for his family. Through the film, audiences have the opportunity to observe up close the dedication of Christine and her mother. Then, what also comes to the fore in He’s My Brother is the heartbreaking realization that Peter is now an adult who was also placed on the autism spectrum, and who experiences “long, dark and silent hours” as his mom puts it, when he is not getting dangerous towards his surroundings, at times. On this point, the film makes clear that no daycare is able to host Peter in Denmark, exposing therefore the unseen wing of a broken medical system.
What is so impressive about He’s My Brother is that the film does not settle for exhibiting its extra-ordinary, strong theme. Unlike lots of films which would not bother making directing choices, but just show and let their topic speak for itself, He’s My Brother turns out to be directed with intentions, know how and gentle touch. Indeed, director Cille Hannibal and co-director Christine Hanberg deserve credit for their careful craftsmanship that I am going to highlight and acknowledge.
Firsly, the film is bold enough to tackle the toughest questions surrounding the life of Peter, but does so with immense respect. “Mom, what do you think is going on in Peter’s head?” asks Christine. They discuss the meaning of such a life and face pungent, real questions: what will Christine do when her parents are gone? Yet, when the film lays bare the deep, difficult questions Peter’s family is facing, the film never overindulges in miserabilism and manages to keep an appropriate distance with the events unfolding in front of the camera. When Christine and her mother are sitting, having a moving conversation on the future of Peter and Christine, who will at some point end up as Peter’s only guardian, the film keeps steady shots of both characters, not overindulging in zooms or close ups. In this regard, director Cille Hannibal and co-director Christine Hanberg gracefully balance intimacy and dignity.
Secondly, the film also expertly puts together sequences in direct cinema, archives and a perceptive and deeply honest voice over by Christine. Her reflections on her life with Peter play out in a lyrical and deeply personal way, as she works through the enigma of her older brother. By using archives of Christine and Peter’s childhood, the film manages to give us more context and helps us understand the contradictory thoughts and dilemmas that Christine may face.
Then, the editing is also another strength of the film. The film alternates between scenes of profound joy between Peter and Christine or Peter and her mother, where they seem to be on the same wavelength and where their worlds seem connected, and scenes of profound misunderstanding, when decoding Peter’s will or behavior gets more challenging. This way, the editing manages to make us feel the uncertainty around Peter, and the fact that his behavior can abruptly change. This editing style is also a way to have us realize what Christine and her mother are facing everyday. Just like life chooses your challenges for yourself, it proves sometimes hard to anticipate Peter’s behavior.
Finally, at times, the sound design is really inspired and reinforces the sound and vibrations of a horse that Peter is touching, or a swimming pool in which Peter is entering, to make us feel closer to his world.
The film ends on a sequence sure to leave audiences heartbroken. As they celebrate Peter’s 30th birthday, Christine reads the most touching letter a sister can write to her brother, even though, “as a matter of fact, you don’t know that I am your sister”, as Christine acknowledges, to Peter… I would not dare to say that Christine and her mother are a bold human beings, because I cannot pretend judging them. What I can talk about however is the level of admiration I have for Christine and her mother, for their humanity and their ability to create deep and real human bonds. The sincerity of Christine, who co-directed the film, mixed with the pure love and dedication she has for her brother is the most beautiful thing you can see on screen, and in real life. From Christine’s perspective, He’s My Brother is a love letter to Peter.
He’s My Brother reminded me of Mira Burt-Wintonick’s Wintopia, a mesmerizing, profoundly touching tribute to a deceased father, through archive footage explored and discussed by his daughter, who directed the film. Mira Burt-Wintonick’s ability to take distance, reflect on and pay tribute to a beloved complex person who has influenced or shaped her life, in a deeply intimate and poetic film, is so close to co-director Christine Hanberg’s work on He’s My Brother, along with director Cille Hannibal.
Overall, there is grand beauty to He’s My Brother, a strong and poignant tale on pure love, dedication and humanity. A must watch.
