Frames of Representation 2020: IWOW: I Walk On water
The ICA’s FRAMES of REPRESENTATION 2020 is taking place online, via their new digital programme platform Cinema 3, from 27 November – 13 December.
Featuring UK premieres of 18 films from across the globe, Frames of Representation is a showcase for the ‘cinema of the real’ - offering aesthetic and political resistances to cinematic categorisations.
The entire programme is FREE to the ICA’s Red, Green and Blue members or £6 per screening for non-members, plus a series of Q&A and Talks will be freely available for all.
EDIT: IWOW: I Walk On Water is now available online. Watch it at the link below this article.
To walk on water means to do the impossible, to believe in something bigger. To say ‘I Walk on Water’ is to challenge your beliefs and limitations, to allow yourself to feel holy. With this in mind, IWOW: I Walk On Water broadcasts a sea of experiences to us. Grappling to overcome the impossibility of aligning time and memories, Khalik Allah asks his audience to actively resolve the enigmatic reality he shares with the world.
IWOW is a film about Harlem - 125th Street and Lexington Avenue, a street corner that’s been hugely formative for the director’s photographic practice. He speaks to people and broadcasts their views to the world, he says. It’s about making space for experiences like his. IWOW features the voices of those he meets on the streets and those close to Allah, like his mother. However, the two protagonists who return most throughout the film are Frenchie, a 60 year old Haitian man living on the streets, and Khalik Allah’s partner Camilla, an Italian filmmaker. Frenchie becomes a guide and connection piece, a man who has slipped through those lines Allah is struggling to align himself to. Camilla stands in contrast, a voice that’s calm and supportive yet honest in challenging Khalik and his worldview.
The film's conversations are mostly captured off screen via voice recordings and phone calls, providing an equalising power to the words of those recorded. By giving those avoided by mainstream society space to speak, complicated truths about our existence are being highlighted. The director says IWOW is a film about ‘just everyday things’, equal time given to the banal and most profound. Arguably at its core, however, IWOW is a lyrical opus diving into the memories and observations of a man inbetween worlds.
It’s a film which is very long, idiosyncratic and incredibly beautiful. Despite a 200 min runtime and definite moments of self-indulgence, IWOW keeps its flow. This is at large thanks to the film’s immersive soundscape. Scored by 4th Disciple, Allah’s roots in hop hop and directing music videos are carried over to this film. In an interview Allah expressed how the film’s musical world was built first, visuals then added to accompany it.
IWOW is directed, shot and edited by Khalik Allah. His films are often described as the documentaries of a photographer. There is an incredible depth to the portraits he shoots. With a great sense for light, Khalik’s cinematography frames his protagonists in the most tender and soulful ways. His protagonists are holding flowers, their faces lit up by neon store fronts and police lights. There are soft portraits of a woman named Olivia, whose feet are covered in thick calluses after living barefoot on the streets. He intends to show everyone as equal, beautiful and whole, a philosophy deeply influenced by his spiritual beliefs. He never alludes that his work will change his protagonists' lives profoundly. Although there is a political theme, there is beauty and spirituality at the core of IWOW.
The way we perceive time is rarely chronological. We think in ways that are deeply layered, often anachronistic. IWOW uses these same layers and disconnected pieces to immerse the viewer, making the audience actively participate to piece the snapshots back together. We hear Frenchie speak but what we see is a different moment, a portrait selectively chosen to represent his statement. Khalik Allah does away with film language that stages time as linear and continuous. Instead IWOW asks the audience to deeply focus on Allah’s protagonists, including himself.
Allah is in-between worlds that collide and overlap. The film becomes his negation between home, international success and a long distance relationship. We witness his inner conflicts between a deep spirituality, self-doubt, his ego and the care for his community. In IWOW Khalik Allah lays bare intimate moments of his personal relationships. We listen in on conversations which don’t feel meant to be public. By broadcasting himself to the world alongside his protagonists, he allows the film to openly play with the shortfalls of framing other people. It's a directorial decision which is brave in its disarming honesty.
IWOW remains fragile and enigmatic. It's conflicting, sensitive, soulful and very openly performative. As a result of its three hour duration there is space. Space for thoughts to be searched for before being fully uttered into sentences. Space to ponder and reminisce, to repeat and overthink. It’s a film that reclaims space for those whose lives and languages deviate. Whilst in parts self-indulgent and idiosyncratic, this film pushes the boundaries of a new non-fiction film language. Its snapshots are never complete, or fully aligned, but always deeply connected. It’s a film that takes time to watch but gives you life in return.
