It's been just 2 weeks, but we've already lost some legendary artists including Sidney Poitier, Betty White and most recently, Bob Saget. Many shared their tributes as the mainstream media each and everyone news which made so much noise online. On the other hand, the passing of underrated artists is not an event. I don't find it wrong as the handful pay their tribute and remember their contributions. We lost Ricardo Bofill, the Spanish architect and director of one of the obscure lost avant-garde feature film Esquizo (1970). On the other, Colombian film director and producer Ciro Durán had passed away few days back. He has made some of the best works along with his contemporaries, he was the first Colombian to be invited to the Cannes International Film Festival. I have seen Tropical Snow (1988) and Ship of Dreams (1996) with really terrible subtitles. But he is well known for Gamin (1977), a documentary which gives us a underbelly view of Bogotá , this film won seven awards, including the Silver Dove at the Leipzig Film Festival (Germany, 1978) and the Fipresci at the Donostia Film Festival (Spain, 1979).
Gamin/Waif (1977) is haunting and sad in its starkness as Ciro Duran's camera jolts the viewer with the many issues like domestic violence, prostitution, abandoned children that lurk in his simplicity and bareness. The handful of underprivileged who have fled their seems to live their life to the fullest. It is a harsh reality as freedom and innocence is lost but the kids manage to find small happiness rummaging through the streets. A kid is seen lighting a smoke, while others are care-free sleeping on the roadside, there are happy kids who are enjoying their cotton candy while few kids beg on the streets for quick money. This subject matter is sad and still so relevant in the third world countries. I even recommend you to watch Children Adrift (1959), an amazing short film by Édouard Luntz.
The well-known Colombian filmmaker, screenwriter and producer Ciro Durán passed away at the age of 84 on January 10, 2022.
