Based on 40 votes and 14 reviews
C'est un film important!
Intimate portrayal of the complexity of a family. Beautifully shot. The sound design is something you don't normally experience documentary.
I didn't like it but my mom did.
I had a hard time watching this movie but I'm glad I did.
La famille Harting n’est pas comme les autres, et le fait que ses membres sont tous non-voyants constitue la chose la moins singulière de ce clan. Sur le trottoir ou dans le métro, Denis, le père, Peggy, la mère, et Lauviah, leur fille, chantent à pleins poumons et attirent tous les regards. Leur intensité et leur franchise devant la caméra de Carlo Guillermo Proto apparaissent infinies, dévoilant des pans troublants et tragiques de leur existence, dont la mort par noyade du fils Hassan. Or, non seulement ils cultivent sa mémoire, mais ils rêvent aussi de sa résurrection, une entreprise métaphysique qui nous laisse à la fois perplexes et admiratifs. Ce portrait familial s’impose par son authenticité, sa chaleureuse proximité et l’abandon avec lequel les trois protagonistes se livrent, sans fard et sans faux-fuyants.
Beautiful portrait of a family that doesn't judge but rather demonstrates their undying spirit.
Too intense for me.
At first glance I didn't like this film. After talking about it with my friend, I realized that it wasn't that I didn't like this film but that I didn't like how it made me feel. Confronting this level of intensity wasn't something I was prepared for but I'm glad I did.
An intimate documentary portrait of the Hartings, a blind Canadian family who make their living singing in Montreal’s metro stations. Denis, Peggy and their daughter Lauviah are haunted by the tragic drowning of seven-year-old Hassan, the only sighted member of their family. Unable to accept his loss, they have become cult followers of Russian mystic Grigori Grabovoi. He claims that people can rise from the dead and believes Hassan’s resurrection is the only way of restoring the family’s happiness. Initially united by grief, the family members’ paths soon diverge. Given intimate access, the camera unflinchingly captures events as they unfold, from intense resurrection sessions with a Grabovoi disciple to violent domestic arguments and moments of profound despair. What is an intense slice of cinéma vérité is a unique family portrait.
Denis Harting, his childhood sweetheart Peggy, and their daughter Lauviah busk together as a capella singers on the Montreal metro. Peggy prefers performing outside to inside: "It's more fun and it's more money. And people are a bit goofier." She says this to her secret boyfriend, Philou, during one of their transatlantic phone calls, which she's becoming increasingly brazen about. If you're going to pity Denis, pity him for getting cuckolded, not because he's blind. After all, so are Peggy and Lauviah. Lauviah had a brother, Hassan, who died in a drowning accident at the age of six. Denis tells a radio interviewer his death made headlines, so I looked it up and discovered that Hassan was not also blind. His parents donated his corneas--not to Lauviah, alas. As I type this, I'm wondering about the ethical propriety of that, were it medically possible. Like any work of direct cinema, Resurrecting Hassan raises as many questions as it answers, though it goes the extra mile in pursuing objective truthfulness by narrowing the camera's field of vision with staggeringly intimate close-ups. It's not Derek Jarman's Blue, but this blotting out of their surroundings does foster empathy for the Hartings, who are quite often literally the blind leading the blind. (They walk the streets in a linked huddle and assist one another at home.) There's a conversation to be had, in a longer, more considered review, about whether scenes like Lauviah--who additionally has some form of autism--petting her cat wrong constitute exploitation. Personally, I was grateful the movie didn't lapse into inspiration porn, and I tend to think of all cinéma vérité as exploitation anyway. (Besides, it's a poignant moment, as the two most isolated figures in the house beg for mutual compassion.) The question to ask is if pointing a camera at this family is cynical, and that's an issue compounded by their being followers of Grigory Grabovoy, a Russian faith healer who claims that human organs can be regen
Here's an example of a filmmaker losing control of his story while still keeping absolute control over the film as a whole. This strange and intense piece begins when a family - Denis and Peggy Harting and their daughter Lauvia, all visually impaired and who busk in the subway - engage with spiritualists to resurrect Lauvia's brother, Hassan, who drowned almost 15 years ago. But soon it veers into an examination of family dynamics as Denis and Peggy's relationship falters, thanks largely to an online relationship she's pursuing. The movie gets sometimes unbearably close to the Hartings, passionate, compelling characters who make eerily beautiful music. It's also one of the saddest films I've seen in a long time.
Resurrecting Hassan merges the disparate worlds of Denis, Peggy and Lauviah, from their profound grief to their New Age pursuit of miracles, their stunning musicality and incredible perseverance in the face of seemingly insurmountable adversity. Expect the unexpected as Denis and family’s journey leads down roads that even the above setup may not prepare you for. But while their lives get shaken up, everyone emerges relatively unscathed on the other side.
Soyons clair : un documentaire de long métrage axé sur des handicapés ne retient pas d’emblée l’attention du spectateur, même le mieux disposé. Et encore moins si ce film aborde la question de la cécité, la pire des malédictions selon plusieurs, surtout pour un cinéphile averti. Malaise préalable donc, qui repose sur un a priori pouvant hypothéquer la carrière d’une entreprise aussi louable et audacieuse soit-elle. Pourtant, il arrive qu’un miracle se produise, qu’un tel film réussisse à captiver littéralement le spectateur du début à la fin de la projection, au point de le laisser ébahi, sans voix devant ce qu’il vient de voir et d’entendre. La résurrection d’Hassan de Carlo Guillermo Proto en est un exemple éloquent.
Is Front Row Centre and/or the theatres screening this film aware that the director Carlo Proto is alleged to be a serial sexual, physical, and psychological abuser of women? I wonder how these institutions feel about providing a platform that forces his name and image into the lives of the many women who have to exist in this city and be confronted daily with the trauma of horrible abuse and predatory behavior that this individual perpetrated against them... Shame.