It’s an undeniably quirky set-up: an elderly Spanish farmer who takes it upon himself to travel to America and walk – alone – the epic, 2,200-mile Trail of Tears, following the westward route taken by the Cherokee fleeing white settlers. Alone, that is, apart from his trusty sheepdog Zafrana and Andalusian donkey Gorrión.
It’s such a bizarre idea, in fact, that a travel agent whose help the old man attempts to enlist worries he’s being pranked. But what’s most successful, and memorable, about Chico Pereira’s poignant documentary – co-produced by the Scottish Documentary Institute, and winner of best doc at last year’s Edinburgh International Film Festival – is its slow, thoughtful, minimalist storytelling, and the way the director paints in farmer Manolo’s background and allows his tale to unfold with almost effortless ease. So much so, in fact, that we quickly forget about the oddness of his endeavour, and focus instead on this quiet but remarkable man (who is actually Pereira’s uncle and godfather), his relationships with his family and animals, and his understated determination.
This is no glib parable of a country boy lost in the big city
We thereby get to see Manolo’s warm interactions with his daughter Paca, who’s naturally unconvinced by this apparently preposterous idea, and a difficult medical fitness examination that concludes – not surprisingly – that 73-year-old Manolo really should be taking things easier. More importantly, we get glimpses into Manolo’s own solitary life, the solo excusions he’s been making all his life into the arid Spanish countryside – captured beautifully in the muted browns and greens of Julian Schwanitz’s photography – and his cranky relationship with his animals. Long-suffering donkey Gorrión might remain rather on the sidelines for much of the film, but makes his own stubborn determination humorously felt when confronted with crossing a precarious gangplank to a boat.
Once Manolo’s trip is underway – though it’s not immediately clear exactly where he’s headed – Pereira gently contrasts the gleaming technology of modern urban life with the homespun authenticity of the farmer’s outlook. But this is no glib parable of a country boy lost in the big city: Manolo strikes up conversations with truckers, delivers poetry with gusto in a bar, guides his unconventional trio of travellers across buzzing road intersections, and even parks them in front of a multinational corporation he hopes – unsuccessfully, it turns out – will help finance his trip.
Pereira’s film is a deceptively slight, quietly spoken tale of an old man’s slightly barmy caprices. But underneath its tender storytelling it deals with determination and resilience, with the inevitability of ageing, and with the importance of a slow contemplation of our world. It’s unavoidably narrowly focused in scope, but Donkeyote is an understated revelation.
Overleaf: watch the trailer for Donkeyote
Marcello’s not making quite enough euros clipping claws and fluffing fur to take Alida on her dream holiday so he also sells cocaine on the side. It’s the dealing that traps him in the terrifying orbit of Simoncino (Edoardo Pesce, pictured above), a psychotic former boxer who thinks nothing of pulverising a fruit machine and then demanding his money back from the arcade owner. All the local mafioso agree that Simoncino is a problem but no-one wants to take him on. Marcello tries to appease him, like a dog trying to ingratiate himself with an abusive master. He not only gets suckered into Simone’s coke-fuelled burglaries but does jail time for him. 
Garrone is a master of hyperrealism and bone-crunching violence. The action is set in the emptied piazzas and back alleys of a disintegrating southern Italian seaside resort. A lot of scenes take place at night in the murk of sodium lights; when there are daytime scenes, they are shot in desaturated colour. It’s not a pretty world, unless you’re a poodle having your fuzzy topknot sprayed for a dog show. First time actor Marcello Fonte (pictured above) is a great discovery, it’s as if Buster Keaton and Steve Buscemi had a son together and left him to grow up with bad teeth and a crooked nose. His journey from endearing stooge to avenging desperado is slow and graphic. Simoncino is a horror movie monster who seems destined to keep coming back, no matter the blows. There are no happy endings.
The directors focus on a clutch of aspiring young international hopefuls, each covered in a brief thumbnail portrait. Outgoing Anjali from Kentucky, who has a project for detecting arsenic in drinking water, is aware that personality and presentation skills are just as important as scientific insight at ISEF. From the same school, the laid-back trio of Ryan, Harsha and Abraham are working on an AI project to collate stethoscope data online. German teenager Ivo has come up with a prototype flying wing aircraft, and slacker Robbie from West Virginia – who taught a computer to rap like Kanye West – has a head-spinning scheme to track how machine learning actually works, using (what else?) machine leaning. Coming from an impoverished background in rural Brazil, Myllena and Gabriel (pictured above) provide a striking contrast with their US and European co-competitors, and their project aims to prevent the spread of the Zika virus.
