The purpose of the film is not to preach to the choir, or to experts, but to raise questions in the viewer’s mind.
As we grapple with a surreal and shifting new isolated reality, The Song and the Sorrow, with its contemplation of mental health, resonates in its message.
What do we carry forward into the next 10 months of the year, after sharing experiences and stories from the Black diaspora through music, books, art exhibitions, workshops, dance, talk-back forums, cinema and theatre?
I grew up in the 1960s in rural Alberta, on a small farm near the town of Rocky Mountain House. My father had to provide for a large family of four adults and seven kids, and hunting in the nearby woods was a large part of how he did it.
The very first Indigenous-made film I saw was Richard Cardinal: Cry from a Diary of a Métis Child by Alanis Obomsawin, and it was the first time I felt that a filmmaker could understand Indigenous social-political issues.