Director: Panagiotis Evangelidis
Writers: Panagiotis Evangelidis
Cast: Sylvia Robyn
Running time: 1hr 31mins
There is a lot to be said about this unique documentary, but the first word that comes to mind about Sylvia Robyn is definitely ‘raw’. The film’s realistic and unique thematic, as well as its aesthetical approach, immediately paint the picture of what the audience is about to see. Filmmaker and artist Sylvia Robyn (who IFL readers may remember from experimental shorts The futility of quitting smoking and For your memory), the subject of this documentary, invites the audience into her reality, and helps them understand her – and her world – in a way that is so real, it disarms even the most sceptical viewer.
From the first scene we see Sylvia performing some kind of artistic ritual, reciting a story. The image and sound are so intimate, as if the viewer is the one holding the camera and interacting with the person in front of it. After this introductory scene has familiarised us with the subject, the viewer is introduced to Sylvia’s wider environment, and she starts reciting her story through childhood memories and wishes.
The whole film continues exactly as introduced: Sylvia discusses every aspect of her life. Everything she does in the film, she does it wholeheartedly. She is seen interacting with friends, in personal moments in a cemetery, even having sex and exploring her own body in direct contact with the camera. In other words, one gets to experience her life from such a sensitive and private point of view that the medium of film becomes almost invisible. But at one crucial point she expresses her biggest need: talking freely, expressing herself; something she was not doing when she was growing up.
The documentary has no additional sound design and no non-diegetic music. Apart from editing (and apparently a bit of colour grading, as noted in the end credits) there were no post-production processes. The only music playing at only one part of the film is a music box version of Für Elise, a piece known to all, an excellent choice to help connect with the character, as a great many people have held and played with a music box just like this one.
Returning to the intimate feel of the camera-work; the device used was probably a non-professional handheld, giving the whole experience has the feeling of a home-made video. The inspiration from Dogme 95 and homemade films is clear and effective, as this realistic point of view is really helping the viewer connect with the character who, in this case, is a very real person that needs to be heard and understood.
The story of Sylvia is real. All the things she talks about; her hopes and dreams, her mental illness, gender dysphoria, her thoughts of life and death, are topics that should be discussed and explored more by mass audiences. The images shown (sex, images of galactorrhoea) are images that all societies, but especially the Greek society, are trying to hide, either because of shame or lack of information. There is talking about acceptance, about understanding of troubles, about life, death, love. Director Panagiotis Evangelidis rarely interferes; and when he does, he is asking for more details on subjects, which only helps to keep the flow of the story going (even though it sometimes it distracts from the sense of pure observer of life).
After one intervention, it is surprising and relieving to hear Sylvia talk about death in a way that is so accessible, that it gives us an advantage and familiarity with a kind of person who unfortunately we may not meet often in reality, since they need to hide to survive. The director is doing an excellent job ‘shouting’ through the film that all human beings exist and have similar philosophical and existential troubles as the people who are not hiding their true selves.
With a story like that it is difficult to reach a conclusion, so the film finishes with Sylvia’s aspirations and hopes in life. This does come with some problems, though. While the overall review of the film is a positive one, it could be difficult for general audiences to follow a filmmaking style which has so few cinematic devices to help guide them through the story. The chronology of the events is on purpose not clear, but especially towards the end it felt as if it was too ‘set’, too made up.
From what I have seen, Evangelidis’ style in directing is clear and very similar to his other films. He has the artistic potential to elevate the medium of his films, though, and could further evolve as a director, to maintain this direct and personal style, while adding in more cinematic guidance for his audience.
I have to admit I am the kind of viewer who wants more of that kind of cinematic value, but that does not diminish the film’s merit. Overall, it is a film worth watching, and one should allow all thoughts and questions that will be presented through it. It is not often one sees such raw, familiar footage guarding such a unique personality being so vulnerable, and it is an artform on its own to get to such a deep level of understanding of a character so unique, complicated, and so real.
The film has a distinct style and important message, but most crucially and consistently of all, it is human. That is its key strength. It serves as an excellent way to introduce and humanise non-binary, neurodivergent people to audiences unfamiliar with those subjects. Hopefully we will see more stories like this one more, and more directors who follow (and develop) such a unique, personal style of filmmaking.