If the roles in terms of gender within Heading South had been reversed, there'd surely be some sort of mass outcry. The film might've veered away from the style and study it actually encompasses and turned into a lad-orientated picture about young men abroad, treating the respective nation like it was there own. Such is a way of pointing out the little things that would make a big difference in a film like Heading South; a picture that tells the story of white, middle-aged, western women in the Caribbean nation of Haiti looking for strapping, young men whom they pay for sex but additionally trying to find some sort of solace within themselves.
As it is, I found Heading South to be a border-line success, but a success regardless. The film covers Ellen (Rampling); Brenda (Young) and Sue (Portal), three women who have made regular trips to the nation of Haiti over the years for certain reasons. For the benefit of the first-time audience member, who's seeing the film for the first time, their visits are established to be sporadic enough, allowing us to consider them minute fish-out-of-their-respective-waters and thus; we can enjoy the film as a first time visitor ourselves as this strange, new world complete with those that inhabit it is unfolded before our own eyes.
What strikes me on some further reading is that the film was actually written by two men, one named Robin Campillo and the other being the director himself, a certain Laurent Cantet. The film was actually based on a series of short stories by Dany Laferrière. The film isn't really about sex tourism in Haiti, or any other nation, in fact it isn't really about sex tourism at all. The film does not attempt to explore what drives people to go to these places and nor does it treat the material in any sort of ominous or sordid manner. The idea to have the action set in Haiti is a very deliberate one; Haiti mostly being put across here as a lush, colourful and tropical place with beaches and sunshine creating a fluffy, lush atmosphere. The film may have been very different in tone and study had it taken its ideas and background to do with sex tourism and shifted everything to a rainy, cold and rundown Amsterdam or in the Far East. Maybe Thailand, for example.
But do not think the film is a glorification of anything in particular. Haiti and the setting of a place sex tourism is rife is used as a bedded down, and very slow, isolated area for these women to just come together and interact following a supposed shunning back home. Nobody is going to travel thousands of miles just so that they can interact with people they could interact with at home, but these women do and it's done deliberately. It is a finding of peace in some regards; a small garden of Eden in which nothing else exists or matters on the outside and somewhere in which these women can feel important.
The film begins with Brenda touching down and being transported to an idyllic haven in which quality food in good restaurants; nice hotels, warm weather and quaint beaches are the order of the day. This is all shared with other women of her age and predicament, whilst young; attractive black; male locals skirt around in not much bar swimming trunks. They are not allowed near the restaurant and do not say or do much unless requested to – it is not so far from some kind of Utopian, female supremacy-driven paradise; cut off from all apart from those lucky enough to know where it is and be able to frequent it. For a male to come up with this scenario and write short stories about it only for a further two to come along and produce a film out of it is quite interesting; significantly in a sense linked to do with including real life experiences; feelings; opinions or, indeed fantasies into your own written texts.
In order to get to 'Eden' however, Brenda must be transported through the slums of Port-au-Prince, a very deliberate tactic by the director as the background to the 'real' Haiti is placed just the other side of a car window, Brenda keeping her head faced front for most of the journey – ever focused on where she'll soon be. With this idea comes the slight study Heading South wants to make. One such local male whom frequents the beach goes by the name of Legba (Cesar), played by an actor of no considerable note which leaves me thinking he was indeed a local. Legba attracts the fondness of more than one woman but runs foul of another local individual that sees them play out a chase sequence. The point being that, while these somewhat pompous Western women come to Haiti for 'escape' and a little slice of heaven, given the chance, some of the more accustomed Haitians would not mind getting out.
But as I said earlier on, Haiti acts as a lush and appealing place. The hard-boiled and street-level gritty stuff works on a basic level, as does the idea that below the utopia is, in fact, a dystopia. We cannot be fed an hour of drawn out, beautiful locales and then be expected to suddenly slip into dank, depressive mode when in appears one of the beach boys is living a troubled life linked to crime; often gives his earnings to his struggling mother and those that sell drinks have their business trashed. The shift doesn't work. But Heading South does on the whole, and won me over by the end with its love story involving people we do not immediately come to identify with.
As it is, I found Heading South to be a border-line success, but a success regardless. The film covers Ellen (Rampling); Brenda (Young) and Sue (Portal), three women who have made regular trips to the nation of Haiti over the years for certain reasons. For the benefit of the first-time audience member, who's seeing the film for the first time, their visits are established to be sporadic enough, allowing us to consider them minute fish-out-of-their-respective-waters and thus; we can enjoy the film as a first time visitor ourselves as this strange, new world complete with those that inhabit it is unfolded before our own eyes.
What strikes me on some further reading is that the film was actually written by two men, one named Robin Campillo and the other being the director himself, a certain Laurent Cantet. The film was actually based on a series of short stories by Dany Laferrière. The film isn't really about sex tourism in Haiti, or any other nation, in fact it isn't really about sex tourism at all. The film does not attempt to explore what drives people to go to these places and nor does it treat the material in any sort of ominous or sordid manner. The idea to have the action set in Haiti is a very deliberate one; Haiti mostly being put across here as a lush, colourful and tropical place with beaches and sunshine creating a fluffy, lush atmosphere. The film may have been very different in tone and study had it taken its ideas and background to do with sex tourism and shifted everything to a rainy, cold and rundown Amsterdam or in the Far East. Maybe Thailand, for example.
But do not think the film is a glorification of anything in particular. Haiti and the setting of a place sex tourism is rife is used as a bedded down, and very slow, isolated area for these women to just come together and interact following a supposed shunning back home. Nobody is going to travel thousands of miles just so that they can interact with people they could interact with at home, but these women do and it's done deliberately. It is a finding of peace in some regards; a small garden of Eden in which nothing else exists or matters on the outside and somewhere in which these women can feel important.
The film begins with Brenda touching down and being transported to an idyllic haven in which quality food in good restaurants; nice hotels, warm weather and quaint beaches are the order of the day. This is all shared with other women of her age and predicament, whilst young; attractive black; male locals skirt around in not much bar swimming trunks. They are not allowed near the restaurant and do not say or do much unless requested to – it is not so far from some kind of Utopian, female supremacy-driven paradise; cut off from all apart from those lucky enough to know where it is and be able to frequent it. For a male to come up with this scenario and write short stories about it only for a further two to come along and produce a film out of it is quite interesting; significantly in a sense linked to do with including real life experiences; feelings; opinions or, indeed fantasies into your own written texts.
In order to get to 'Eden' however, Brenda must be transported through the slums of Port-au-Prince, a very deliberate tactic by the director as the background to the 'real' Haiti is placed just the other side of a car window, Brenda keeping her head faced front for most of the journey – ever focused on where she'll soon be. With this idea comes the slight study Heading South wants to make. One such local male whom frequents the beach goes by the name of Legba (Cesar), played by an actor of no considerable note which leaves me thinking he was indeed a local. Legba attracts the fondness of more than one woman but runs foul of another local individual that sees them play out a chase sequence. The point being that, while these somewhat pompous Western women come to Haiti for 'escape' and a little slice of heaven, given the chance, some of the more accustomed Haitians would not mind getting out.
But as I said earlier on, Haiti acts as a lush and appealing place. The hard-boiled and street-level gritty stuff works on a basic level, as does the idea that below the utopia is, in fact, a dystopia. We cannot be fed an hour of drawn out, beautiful locales and then be expected to suddenly slip into dank, depressive mode when in appears one of the beach boys is living a troubled life linked to crime; often gives his earnings to his struggling mother and those that sell drinks have their business trashed. The shift doesn't work. But Heading South does on the whole, and won me over by the end with its love story involving people we do not immediately come to identify with.