My Playground (review I) by Kaspar Astrup Schröder

Something of this very modern and trendy piece of work reminds one of the passion that first drove people to create cinema. Behind a resolutely positive and enthusiastic pamphlet on Parkour (the practice of physically exploring the limits of a city, jumping and climbing on walls, roofs and trees), the film reveals the human admiration for two things directly connected to art, and to cinema in particular: the demonstration of extraordinary body use and recording movement.

We are not that far from Muybridge’s experiences with horses or recordings of gymnasts and circus people. The key elements here are the exceptional performances and the thrill: during 50 minutes, the director immerses the public in the frenzy of bodies, amazing pirouettes and dangerous physical feats. The camera is placed close to the ground; the lenses are as wide as possible, aimed towards the sky in order to show contortionists flying against the clouds.

The mechanics of the narration are not developed much more than that: the city mayor and town hall secretaries in Copenhagen are invited to promote the advantages of this “new use of the city space”, while a group of young Parkour practitioners (known as traceurs) are invited by the city to create a space of their own. Nothing is really mentioned about the possible negative aspects of it, the evident dangers of this practice or the invasion of private space (traceurs have no qualms about jumping into people’s backyards or onto their rooftops).

This incursion into the cinematic pleasures of freedom and the absence of limits (they can move anywhere, with no boundaries, and so can the camera attached to their bodies) may be very impressive, but it surely does more for the promotion of this ’sport’ - this label is yet to be discussed, since there is no competition or measurement involved - than it does for reflection on the possibilities for its implementation in everyday life, or for documentary itself. There is no critical point of view: just as the 6-metre jump executed by one traceur, we simply dive into pure sensation.

By Bruno Carmelo

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