The Mother of All Lies review – pursuing the truth of Morocco’s brutal dictatorship years

Asmae El Moudir employs a delicate mix of handmade replicas and oral testimony to brilliantly evoke personal and collective trauma Between those who refuse to remember and those who struggle to forget, a tumultuous clash of minds occupies the centre of Asmae El Moudir’s inventive documentary, a prize-winner at last year’s Cannes film festival. Through a constellation of clay figurines and dollhouse-style miniature sets, most of which were constructed by El Moudir’s father, the director recreates her oppressive childhood in the Sebata district of Casablanca. Under the watchful eyes of her domineering grandmother Zahra, all personal photos are banished from the house, save for a picture of King Hassan II. The delicate mix of handmade replicas and oral testimony brilliantly evokes the personal and collective trauma that stem from Morocco’s “Years of Lead” – a period of state brutality under Hassan II’s dictatorial rule. Lingering on the nimble fingers of El Moudir’s father as he puts t

Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars review Bowie bids farewell to an icon in legendary gig

DA Pennebaker’s documentary offers moving moments and raw immediacy as the musician takes on his final performance as Ziggy Stardust

DA Pennebaker’s record of David Bowie’s final concert on the Ziggy Stardust tour at London’s Hammersmith Odeon in 1973 (Bowie is part of the reason we will never be reconciled to saying “Eventim Apollo”) is rereleased after a restoration. It was the legendary “all killer no filler” gig at which, in the presence of the Spiders from Mars – Mick Ronson (guitar), Trevor Bolder (bass), Mick Woodmansey (drums) – he retired his Ziggy Stardust persona, announcing to a stunned crowd that it was the last time he would ever play (as Ziggy).

The show itself, in which Bowie and band members appear starkly key-lit in darkness, with the crowd glimpsed briefly and almost stroboscopically, looks intriguingly intimate, like something at a much smaller club venue. The concert is straightforward and almost minimalist in its staging and Bowie’s cheeky theatrical genius and rackety exotica has something panto about it. Often, the piano and sax lines in Changes give the event a Vegas-residency feel, although no Vegas residency, even in 1973, would be so austerely presented. (Aladdin Sane is incidentally, along with “the Beatles”, a phrase which has transcended its own wordplay origins.)

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