The Best Movies I Have Never Seen Before: Historie(s) du Cinema (1988-1998)

Friday, October 18, 2013

The Best Movies I Have Never Seen Before: Historie(s) du Cinema (1988-1998)

Histoire(s) due Cinema (1988-1998)
Directed by: Jean-Luc Godard.
Written by: Jean-Luc Godard.

Jean-Luc Godard has been bitter and angry for a long time about what he sees as the “failures” of cinema. The famed French director, who perhaps was the biggest name in cinema during the 1960s, has long since turned his back on narrative filmmaking, and become an avant-garde filmmaker. To be fair, had he never made those films in the early to mid-1960s – really most of his films from Breathless (1960) to Weekend (1967) – he would still be an important filmmaker in avant-garde circles. Yet, if it wasn’t for those early films, Godard would not command the respect he now does. Whenever he opens his mouth to insult a filmmaker – a favorite target of his has been Spielberg (although, most of what Godard has said about Spielberg is so outlandish and ridiculous that it masks any legitimate criticisms he may have), everyone listens. When he makes a film like Film Socialism (2010), it becomes the most talked about film at the Cannes Film Festival – where normally a film that like wouldn’t even play there (you can argue that’s either a good or bad thing). There seems to be two camps on Godard – those who think he has done very little of value since Weekend, and those who think that Godard is still a genius, still far ahead of the curve, waiting for people to catch up to him.

For the most part, I consider myself to be in the former camp. Breathless (1960), Vivre Sa Vie (1962), Contempt (1963), Band of Outsiders (1964), Pierrot Le Fou (1965) and Weekend (1967) are all legitimately great movies, and even if I didn’t think Made in U.S.A. (1966) or 2 or 3 Things I Know About Her (1967) were great (or even that good in the case of 2 or 3 Things), they was interesting and intelligent films. This period was so prolific for Godard that I still need to see some fairly major works from it –A Woman is a Woman (1961), Alphaville (1965), Masculin-Feminine (1966) – chief among them. Given how much I hated Film Socialisme (sorry, perhaps I should say I just don’t get it, but in all honesty, when I read the reviews of people who claim it to be a masterpiece, I wonder if I perhaps walked into the wrong theater, because what I saw was an incoherent mess, not some profound statement on anything) and some of his other “late period” films, I cannot imagine wanting to see them above the films he was making in the period where he made several legitimate masterpieces.

All this is a very long introduction into this piece which is about Godard’s magnum opus – Histoire(s) due Cinema, an eight part (or four part, with each part having an (a) and (b) if you want to get technical), four and a half hour epic, which he made and released slowly between 1988 and 1998. Normally, I would have rather watched one of those 1960s Godard films I still haven’t seen rather than this opus – but the film ranked in the top 50 films of all time on the 2012 Sight and Sound Critics Poll, so I bite the bullet and settled in for what I assumed would be a VERY long night.

But I was pleasantly surprised by Histoire(s) du Cinema. I’m certainly not saying that the film is for everyone – it clearly isn’t, and is more of an avant-garde art piece than anything else – but I was fascinated by the film. The film is technical marvel – a masterpiece of montage – as it brings together clips from cinema’s past, and makes startling connections, and wholly new images out of them. Yes, the film is still a long sit, and yet it was never less than fascinating – even when it enraging, which it often was as Godard’s contentions and opinions about cinema are often at complete odds with my own, or self-aggrandizing, which it is nearly constantly for parts of the movie. In Godard’s view, of course, only someone in the New Wave could tell the story of cinema history – meaning only he can – and that the French New Wave was the greatest thing that ever happened to cinema – again, meaning he was – and since then it has been a long, slow death march. He pretty much argues that cinema is already dead – but of course, only Godard is smart enough to see it.

But I can disagree with a movie, and still find it interesting – and Histoire(s) du Cinema is certainly interesting. It’s not that I didn’t know that Godard was an egomaniac when I sat down to watch Histoire(s) du Cinema, or that he wasn’t going to argue that cinema has failed – he has been arguing that for years. And Histoire(s) du Cinema is the type of film that only someone who at one point completely loved cinema could make. Godard’s movie knowledge is unquestionable, and his disappointment in cinema’s “failings” is genuine, even if I think more than a little of that disappointment stems from the fact that so few people followed him when he broke away from the mainstream.

It should be noted that this isn’t a standard issue cinema history documentary – for that, watch Martin Scorsese’s A Personal Journey Through American Film and My Voyage to Italy, both of which are excellent, both for film buffs and newcomers. No, to truly understand Godard’s film, you have to know a lot about cinema before you sit down and watch it – there were times when I was completely overwhelmed by what was being thrown on the screen. To add to the confusion, the version I saw had sparse English subtitles – but I think the important parts are subtitled (I was never very good at French in school, but I remember enough to be able to piece together much of the non-subtitled, oft-repeated phrases).

Histoire(s) du Cinema is finally a love letter to, elegy of and condemnation of cinema, from one of its sharpest minds. I may not like much of Godard’s later output, but I have never doubted that he is, on some level, still a genius – even if I think he has bought too much into his own myth (no one thinks Godard is a genius as much as Godard does). The film is never less than fascinating, even if it does begin to repeat itself after a while. At four and half hours, this is a VERY long sit – and most audiences will grow restless. I do not think this is the masterpiece that its most ardent supporters do, but for what it is, Histoire(s) du Cinema certainly deserves to be more widely seen than it has been (part of that is undoubtedly do to the rights issues of using all those old clips – this held up the DVD release for years apparently). I cannot think of too many people that I would actually recommend sitting through this film to – it requires a patient audience member, willing to indulge Godard – but if the film sounds interesting to you, than I certainly think you should see it.

Movie Review: Gideon's Army

Wednesday, October 16, 2013

Movie Review: Gideon's Army

Gideon’s Army
Directed by: Dawn Porter
Written by: Matthew Hamachek & Dawn Porter.

Everyone charged with a crime in America is entitled to a defense – although not everyone can afford a great defense lawyer, everyone is supposed to get a qualified lawyer to represent them – to look out for their interests. As the wonderful documentary Gideon’s Army shows, the public defenders who represent those who cannot afford their own lawyer really do care about their clients. They believe in what they do, and work hard for their clients. The problem is that they often have well over 100 clients at a time – so not all of them get the defense they probably need. For the 90-95% of the people charged, who the movie says will plead guilty to some sort of crime or another, this may not be as big of a deal. They are charged, they are guilty, they know they cannot win, so they look to their lawyer to get them the best deal they can get. But to those other clients – those innocent of what they are charged with – the prospect of having a public defender scares them to death. How much time can a PD really spend on any one case?

The film focuses mostly on two PDs in Georgia – Travis Williams and Brandy Alexander. They know most of their clients are guilty – Alexander tells two shocking stories – one about a man she was working hard to defend, who at the same time was plotting her murder if he was convicted, and another about a man who almost gleefully confesses to raping his stepdaughter. Still, they work long, hard hours trying their best to represent their clients – with little time to mount a defense, and almost no resources in which to do it. The film will eventually concentrate on two cases – one for each lawyer. In the case Williams defends, there is fingerprint evidence found on the scene – but those fingerprints were never tested. Williams doesn’t have the resources to test them himself, so instead he tricks the DA into doing it for him – but even when the fingerprints don’t match, the DA still wants to press on in her prosecution. With Alexander, we see her mount a defense step-by-step, gradually trying to build up reasonable doubt in the jury. The film isn’t an advocacy documentary for these two cases though, as much as it a portrait of the PDs themselves. If it advocates anything, it’s that PDs deserve more credit and respect than they get.

The documentary doesn’t have a narrator, and has an quiet, understated score that only plays some of the time. The movie doesn’t try to ramp up the drama into phony Hollywood-style theatrics, but instead just watches as these dedicated PD’s try their best to mount a defense, even though everything is stacked against them. While the film is about the justice system, it is also about the increasing divide between the haves and have-nots – the haves can afford the best lawyers, working round the clock on their case alone. The have-nots – which there seem to be more have – have to make do with dedicated lawyers, who have little time, and no money to do the same thing. Is it any wonder why most of them simply plead out? You can go broke, lose your job, your house and your kids just by being charged with a crime, even if you are eventually acquitted. The system is stacked against them, and no matter how dedicated these lawyers are, that doesn’t change the basic facts. It’s no wonder most Public Defender’s leave after a few years. No matter what they do, the odds are stacked against them – the work long, hard hours for little pay, and see the justice system they believe in stacked against the weaker people in society. Would you stick around too long for that?

Movie Review: Call Me Kuchu

Thursday, October 3, 2013

Movie Review: Call Me Kuchu

Call Me Kuchu
Directed by: Katherine Fairfax Wright & Malika Zouhali-Worrall.

The documentary Call Me Kuchu tells an important and tragic story – and one that remains unresolved in the film, because the piece of legislation in front of the Uganda parliament is still pending. That legislation would impose penalties – right up to and including the death penalty – for homosexuals in Uganda – and imprisonment for people who know homosexuals, but do not report them within 24 hours. The level of hatred and bigotry we see spewed throughout the film is truly eye opening and depressing.

The film spends much of its running time focusing on David Kato – Uganda’s “first openly gay man”, and a leading activist for gay rights in his country. He lived for a few years in South Africa – one of the few African countries with a more open mind about homosexuality – before returning to Uganda. Kato was bludgeoned to death during the production of this movie back in 2011. The movie does not mention the outcome of the murder – that a male prostitute was convicted of killing Kato and sentenced to 30 years in jail – something some believe is part of a smear campaign against Kato – but still something the movie should have brought up. As it stands, the movie makes it seem like no one was ever charged with Kato’s murder. . Two other leading figures in the gay rights movement in Uganda also get major screen time – Naome (if they ever gave a last name, I missed it)– a friend of David’s, and a leading lesbian activist, and Bishop Christopher Senyonjo, who was expelled from the Church for preaching tolerance of gays – and yet continues right on doing what he thinks is right. He quotes openly from the bible to support his belief that contrary to what many in Uganda think, God does not hate gay people. “We are all one in Christ”, he quotes Paul.

The movie also doesn’t shy away from showing the people on the other side – including Giles Muhame, the editor of a tabloid called Rolling Stone (that has nothing to do with the American magazine), that publishes pictures of alleged homosexuals, and encourages them to be hanged. When talking about Kato’s death, Muhame accepts no responsibility – he says he never encouraged violence against homosexuals. What he wanted was for people like Kato to be arrested, given a fair trial, and then hanged. He is a hateful person, spewing the worst kind of anti-gay rhetoric imaginable – and feels no shame at all. He’s not even humbled when he loses a court case against the people he put in his newspaper just weeks before Kato’s death.

The film tells an important story – and does serve to help give viewers more background information on Uganda and their treatment of homosexuals than they got by watching the media reports of the anti-gay bill by American news outlets. The stories the people in this movie tell – of being raped, harassed, beaten and all sort of other monstrous things truly is hard to take, but is necessary to show the living hell gays and lesbians live through in Uganda.

Still, I think Call Me Kuchu misses an opportunity to be a better, deeper film. The primary purpose of the film seems to be to raise awareness – and that in itself is a laudable goal. And yet, the film is content to take the easiest path possible in telling its story. It is important subject matter – but one that I wish was handled with a little bit more nuance and intelligence.

Movie Review: Evocateaur: The Morton Downey Jr. Movie

Thursday, September 19, 2013

Movie Review: Evocateaur: The Morton Downey Jr. Movie

Évocateur: The Morton Downey Jr. Movie
Directed by: Seth Kramer & Daniel A. Miller & Jeremy Newberger.

Does anyone really remember Morton Downey Jr.? I admit that before this movie, I hadn’t heard of the man. I was a little young to remember his short lived talk show – that debuted in 1987 as a local show, went National in 1988, and was cancelled in 1989. In two years, Morton Downey Jr. went from being someone most had never heard of to national celebrity to pretty much a nobody again. Yet when you watch the movie – which uses generous clips from the show itself – you see how influential Morton Downey Jr. really was on our current culture – in mostly negative ways. You can see the influences of everyone from trash talks shows Jerry Springer, to Conservative pundits like Glenn Beck, Bill O’Reilly and Sean Hannity, to the cast of Jersey Shore reflected in the show, the host and the audience.

The easiest way to describe Morton Downey Jr. as host of his talk show would be to say he’s seems like a man who watched Peter Finch in Network, and decided that he too could do that. He is angry pretty much the entire time he’s onscreen – always with a cigarette in his hand, screaming at his guests – and encouraging the audience – affectionately referred to as “The Beast” – to do the same. He spoke for “the common man” sick of politicians in Washington screwing everything up. He was an unabashed Conservative, and the audience tuned in every night to hear him yell at his guests – bleeding heart liberals. This probably describes why his show didn’t last very long – if you knew going on the show meant being screamed at by the host, and the audience, why the hell would you agree to be on it? He got a lot of mileage out of the Tawana Brawley case – that of a 15 year old African American girl who accused 6 white men – including police officers and an attorney – of raping her, then leaving her in a trash bag, with racial slurs written all over her. The case, eventually, proved to be false – with Brawley making the whole thing up – but Downey delighted in doing show after show on the case while it was national news – Brawley advocate Al Sharpton was a frequent guest. The show, which was never high minded to begin with, quickly devolved into a sideshow – culminating with Downey taking a page out of Brawley’s book, and faking an attack by skinheads – eventually leading to Downey to return to obscurity, trying, unsuccessfully to restart his career. The movie ends with his battle with lung cancer – which did get him somewhat back into the spotlight, in a far more sympathetic way than before.

The film was directed by Seth Kramer, Daniel A. Miller and Jeremy Newberger – three self-professed fans of the show, who admit that Downey’s angry rants appealed directly to them at the time when the were teenagers. They, along with some other fans as teens, look back on the show mostly with nostalgia for their youth, mixed with a little bit of embarrassment for being so taken with the show at the time. The trio of directors take a fairly standard documentary approach to the film – mixing clips from the show with many talking heads – and a few interesting animated sequences, which takes the logical step of making Downey into a literal cartoon character.

Despite the fact that the trio are fans, they do not turn this into a fawning picture of Downey. Far from it. What the trio eventually conclude about Downey is that he was hungry for fame – by any means necessary. The son of Morton Downey, the famed singer and movie star from the 1930s, Downey grew up privileged, with a demanding father, but powerful friends – he knew the Kennedy quite well growing up. Part of the reason he became such a Conservative seems to be little more than a shot at his father, who was an avowed liberal. The producers of the show, when interviewed, essentially admit that they had to teach Downey all about the issues he was supposedly so outraged about night after night. Downey, it seems, didn’t really care about politics – he cared about fame.

Still, despite all of this, it’s hard not to somewhat feel for Downey in the later part of the film. He was a man haunted by his father, and essentially self-destructs. The fact that the film only has an interview with one of his children – who remembers him mostly with affection, although admitting he wasn’t the best father – or any of his ex-wives probably means the people who knew Downey best still have issues with him. That said, this is still a fascinating movie about a short lived TV show, with a blowhard host, who is at least partly responsible for the state of television culture over two decades later.

Movie Review: We Steal Secrets: The Story of WikiLeaks

Saturday, September 14, 2013

Movie Review: We Steal Secrets: The Story of WikiLeaks

We Steal Secrets: The Story of WikiLeaks
Directed by: Alex Gibney.

If you’ve followed the strange, ever twisting story of WikiLeaks and its founder Julian Assange, you probably aren’t going to learn all that much new information in Alex Gibney’s We Steal Secrets: The Story of WikiLeaks. But Gibney – who is seemingly able to churn out a new documentary about once every six months, with a surprisingly high level of consistency, has a skill at bringing everything together in one, neat little two hour and ten minute package. Here is the kind of documentary about a controversial subject that I like – it will (and has) angered Assange’s many, many passionate supporters, and will likely anger his many, many passionate detractors as well. Which is a complicated way of saying that Gibney probably gets most of it right. Things are never as simple as the people on either extreme would like us to think they are.

Perhaps the saddest thing about WikiLeaks is the fact that on some level, we need an organization like this. When the U.S. Military gunned down reporters from Reuters – bizarrely claiming their cameras looked like guns, and then killed a father in a van who was simply taking his kids to school, there was little outrage – it was a minor story, dismissed by the Obama White House as an unfortunate accident, and quickly forgotten. That is until Assange got his hands on the videotape from the helicopter that showed what happened. Apparently those in the military like to trade these “kill tapes” amongst themselves – and eventually they found their way into Assange’s hands, who put them on his website in all their gruesome horror (including some sickening jokes being told “I just ran over a guy” one soldier says while practically chuckling.) Later, when all the PFC Bradley Manning leaked those hundreds of thousands of documents about the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, he didn’t go to a major news outlet – he went to Assange. And although the New York Times and The Guardian partnered with Assange to publish the most scandalous of the documents, they quickly backed away from him once they were through. Assange is useful for the mainstream media to do their dirty work, but they really don’t want anything to do with him.

Which on some level is understandable. After all, as the movie makes clear, Assange didn’t care if publishing all those documents got some people killed. One reporter at The Guardian recounts the time when Assange told him that “If an Afghan civilian co-operated with U.S. forces, they deserve to die”. Assange simply doesn’t care what consequences these leaks may have – he’s an idealist who believes that no information should be secret. That is, of course, until the information is about him.

The first half of the movie is better than the second half – as it documents Assange’s rise from obscure, genius hacker and his merry men of likeminded geniuses, to one of the most famous men in the world due to the leaks. This part is complex, because on one level you have to admire Assange for sticking to his ideals, and on the other, you can dislike the means in which he goes about things – and the ego maniac you can tell is forming. The second half of the movie isn’t quite as good – as it documents Assange’s fall – where he goes from genius idealist, into paranoid fanatic.

Did the U.S. government set up Assange with the two rape charges in Sweden, like Assange, and many of his supporters claim? Not likely. As the documentary points out (actually, a news clip from Assange’s own lawyer), it would be far easier for America to get Assange from the Brits than from the Swedes, so if they were going to cook up charges against him, it makes no sense to do it in Sweden (and, of course, there is the fact that the U.S. has no charges pending against him). But the two rape charges – which are still outstanding – is really what hastens Assange’s – and by extension WikiLeaks – fall. Assange grew increasingly paranoid, starting asking WikiLeaks employees to sign the type of non-disclosure agreements their sources often had to ignore to give them their stories. And then, last year, instead of going to Sweden to face the charges – which may or may not be trumped up depending on who you talk to (and Gibney talks to many people, including one of Assange’s accusers, who has had to face bizarre, misogynistic attacks by his supporters), he took refuge in the Ecuador Embassy in Britain – a nation he calls “principled”, but has a history of jailing reporters.

The hole in We Steal Secrets is the fact that Gibney couldn’t get an interview with Assange himself – claiming, in the documentary that he met with him several times to work out an agreement for an interview, but finally couldn’t work out anything when Assange insisted on $1 million to appear in the film (Assange denies this, saying he never intended to take part). But this isn’t as big a hole as you may think considering that Gibney has interviews with many, many others involved in the story – and access to the many, many interviews Assange gave to practically everyone else on the planet other than Gibney.

The other fascinating story thread, that Gibney weaves into the Assange’s narrative, is that of Manning – the whistleblower who gave Assange all those documents. He may never would have been caught if he hadn’t have been stupid if he hadn’t confided in the wrong person on the internet – a former hacker, who eventually turned Manning in. The portrait of Manning is far more sympathetic than the one of Assange – a lonely, sexually confused kid, who somehow had access to all these documents, and decided the world needed to see them. He took a moral stand – and has now been horribly mistreated in jail (but don’t worry, people have assured Obama he’s being treated fairly), where he’ll probably spend the rest of his life. Surprisingly, there are some former government officials who argue that there are too many secrets as well. Manning knew the potential consequences of his actions, and took the risk anyway, for something he believed in. I can feel sympathy for that. I don’t feel much sympathy for Assange though. Whatever situation he’s in, he got himself there – and now, he’s trying to avoid facing the consequences.

Movie Review: The Cheshire Murders

Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Movie Review: The Cheshire Murders

The Cheshire Murders
Directed by: Kate Davis & David Heilbroner.

TV has many True Crime documentary shows – like Dateline, 20/20, 48 Hours and countless others. It would be hypocritical of me to insult these programs, because admittedly, I watch them more often than I would like to admit. But a movie like The Cheshire Murders – which originally aired on HBO in July, and played on CNN over this past weekend – does highlight the difference because those shows, and a deeper documentary that aims to do more than simply provide a glimpse inside a horrific crime. The Cheshire Murders is not structured like a Dateline episode, which more often than not takes the form of whodunit, mainly because in this case, there is no doubt who the guilty are. They are caught almost immediately, confess shortly thereafter, and offer to plead guilty and spend the rest of their lives in jail in exchange for the state not seeking the death penalty, just weeks later. The Cheshire Murders goes deeper than simple guilt or innocence – and offers a shattering, hard to watch film about a bungled police response in the first third, and then gradually turning into a movie about whether or not the death penalty should be applied to anyone. If anyone deserves the death penalty, it’s the two men in this movie. But therein lies the question – does anyone deserve it?

The case in question is horrific and generated worldwide media attention. In brief, in the early morning hours of July 23^rd, 2007 - Joshua A. Komisarjevsky and Steven J. Hayes invaded the home of Petit family in Cheshire, Connecticut. They beat the father, William, with a baseball bat and then tie him up in the basement. They then tie up mother Jennifer, 17 year old Hayley and 11 year Michaela, in their separate rooms. The two men wanted money – and weren’t happy with the amount the family had in the house, so when the banks open the next day, Hayes took Jennifer to her bank to have her withdraw $15,000. Although so told the bank manager what was going on, and he phoned the police, Hayes was able to take Jennifer home. Eventually, Jennifer will be raped and strangled to death, Michaela will be raped, and both girls with be doused with gasoline, and the house will be set on fire – killing them both. Father William made it out of the house just in time. During some of this, the police were busy setting up a perimeter around the house – had they acted quicker, lives could have been saved. They were there to grab Komisarjevsky and Hayes as they tried to flee the scene however.

For the movie’s first half hour or so, it seems like it will be about the crime, and the odd police response to it. Why did they do nothing except surround the home? Why didn’t they intercept Hayes and Jennifer before they even got home in the first place? Why did they do nothing to make their presence known to those inside the house? During the time when the police had the home surrounded, was when the most horrific acts inside the home occurred. Could they have done more to prevent the crimes from taking place? While William Petit has never criticized the police response, Jennifer’s family – in particular her sister – wants answers from the police – answers that the police refuse to supply (they also refused to take part in the documentary). What Komisarjevsky and Hayes was despicable, but could they have been stopped?

The movie only gets more complex from there. The movies second third is basically about Komisarjevsky and Hayes themselves – the troubled lives they led, including the childhood sexual abuse they both endured, and the strict religious upbringing Komisarjevsky had. The film has interviews with friends and family of both of the murderers, which detail their lives. The filmmakers don’t do this to try and excuse their actions, but rather to humanize them. Like Werner Herzog’s Into the Abyss, or his short-run TV documentary series Death Row, the directors don’t want to excuse the killers, but do want to present them as more than just monsters that they are portrayed as. The people who do inexcusable things are still people – which is a lesson that we continue to need.

And then the last third of the movie – which focuses on the trials of Komisarjevsky and Hayes, is really more about the death penalty than anything else. There is no doubt that both men will be found guilty of murder – they are guilty, and have admitted as much. Had the state simply let them plead guilty and sentenced them to life in prison in the weeks following the crime, the case would have been over. But they wanted the death penalty – which meant a trial had to take place – three years after the murders – and everyone – family, friends, lawyers, and the judge and jury members – had to hear about every sickening aspect of the case. The standard for death as opposed to life in prison is “aggravating” factors compared to “mitigating” factors – essentially meaning the prosecution has to prove why this triple murder is more heinous than other triple murders. Fortunately for the audience of this film, most of the horrific images – the bodies, the pictures Komisarjevsky took of 11 year old Michaela that were pornographic in nature – have never been released to the public, so we don’t have to endure them – everyone involved in the case were not so lucky. Still, hearing the sickening aspects of the case, and Komisarjevsky’s chilling diary entries about it written in jail, are going to be too much for many audience members to bare – so be warned.

The question about the death penalty that the movie raises is an interesting one. Is it more punishment to put people to death – as Hayes in particular wants to be (he tried to commit suicide, and has asked to waive all his appeals rights so he can be executed sooner – and was denied) – or to make them live with what they did for the rest of their lives? Is it worth the extra money – millions were spent on the trials, millions more on all the appeals – than it is to simply lock them up (since the appeals will likely last a decade or more, you aren’t really saving much money on incarceration)? Is putting people to death worth having to put people through the torment of lengthy trials, and delays and the appeals process, where the most horrific details of the crime have to be relived over and over again, really worth it?

The movie, wisely, doesn’t really answer the question. It simply asks the questions, and lets the audience decide for themselves. The film was directed by Kate Davis & David Heilbroner, and it is sad, chilling and unforgettable documentary. Don’t let the fact that it originally aired on HBO, and has since aired on CNN, confuse you into thinking this is just another True Crime TV doc. This is a deep, more disturbing and haunting documentary than that.

Movie Review: Leviathan

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Movie Review: Leviathan

Leviathan
Directed by: Lucien Castaing-Taylor & Verena Paravel.
Written by: Lucien Castaing-Taylor & Verena Paravel.

The reason why some critics will call Leviathan the best film of the year is the same reason why most audience members will not want to sit through the film – it’s not quite like anything I’ve ever seen before – and that’s both the films strength and its weakness. The film has come out of something called the “Sensory Ethnography Lab” at Harvard, and is co-directed by professor Lucien Castaing-Taylor, (who co-directed Sweetgrass, about sheep herding a few years back) along with Verena Paravel. The film is a documentary and an ethnographic film – yet, not really either one of those. It was shot aboard a fishing ship based in New Bedford, Massachusetts – but if you to see a film about fishing, its challenges, consequences or methodology, than really this isn’t the film for you. The film really doesn’t offer anything we traditionally think of when we watch a movie. The film immerses us in the sights and sounds on board the boat (and sometimes, overboard) but provides us with no context for anything. You simply sit back and let the film wash over you – or you fight it, and then you’re in for a very long 90 minutes. Unlike perhaps any other film this year, Leviathan offers images that you have never seen before, will probably not see again. The problem is these moments of brilliance often come right alongside some tedious moments. This is a brilliant half hour Avant garde film, stretched to 90 minutes. While I know why some have loved it – and will declare it a masterpiece (watch it to rank very high on year-end critics surveys) – I also know why when the film was released earlier this year, it grossed only $72K. This is a film that is made with little to no thought of the audience – which is refreshing and frustrating in equal degrees.

I really do not know what to say about the film – so I’ll describe the three ways in which is was shot. The first is a traditional documentary format – with the filmmakers with handheld cameras simply filming the men as they go about their work. Fair warning to people with sensitive stomachs – if you don’t think you can take extended scenes of fish being disemboweled, well then this isn’t the film for you. The second way the film is shot is with cameras mounted to the workers helmets, to capture their POV as they go about their work. The third, and most interesting way the film was shot, was with cameras that were literally tied to the giant fishing nets, and thrown out to sea. It is this way that the film produces the images you have likely never seen before – the roiling, rough see, haunting images shot of seagulls from underwater that will stay with me for the rest of my life. I haven’t seen this type of thing before – and likely won’t again. Who else would shoot this way?

You won’t really get an idea of what life on a fishing boat like this is like from Leviathan. The film is often shot in disorienting close-up, so it’s hard if not impossible to tell just exactly what you’re looking at. The voices of them men are drown out by the natural sounds of the ocean around them, and the unnatural sound of the machinery churning. One, very odd and very long, sequence simply sits back and watches the captain as he watches an episode of Deadliest Catch on TV – the show giving way to commercials. What the point of this scene is, I have no idea.

And that’s about all I can say about Leviathan. It is a film like nothing you have seen before – even the aforementioned Sweetgrass had a more traditional feel to it than this one. This one is all about its images – that it invites you to get lost in, and think of – well, whatever those images call to mind. It is deliberately ambiguous – it doesn’t argue for or against anything. Most people will have interest in the film whatsoever – I understand that. Some will proclaim it a masterpiece – I understand that as well. For me, I’m right in the middle. I admired the film, without ever really loving it. Perhaps had I seen it in a theater, where it’s easier to get lost in it, rather than at home, I would have liked it more than I did. A good test of whether the film is for you is when I mentioned “Sensory Ethnography Lab” above, did it peak your interest, or make you scratch your head in confusion. But I think if you made it this far in the review, you already know if the film is for you or not.

Movie Review: A Band Called Death

Thursday, August 15, 2013

Movie Review: A Band Called Death

A Band Called Death
Directed by: Mark Christopher Covino & Jeff Howlett.

Last year, the wonderful, Oscar winning documentary Searching for Sugar Man told the improbably story of Detroit singer-songwriter Rodriguez, who released two albums in the early 1970s that were virtually ignored in America, but somehow found their way to South Africa and were huge hits. Rodriguez gave up music, worked for years in construction, and never knew that he was a musical icon in South Africa until decades later. Now comes another documentary – A Band Called Death – which also focuses on little known musicians from Detroit, who became famous years after the band broke up, and it’s driving force died. Death was a banded formed by the Hackney brothers – guitarist and songwriter David, bassist and vocalist Bobby and drummer Dannis. Although they were black, in Detroit, in the early 1970s where everyone expected them to sing Motown, they were a rock band. Or as a famed New York Times article that appeared in 2009 was headlined “This Band Was Punk Before Punk Was Punk”. Listening now to the band’s one and only album – never released at the time – is to hear the hallmarks of punk music a few years before The Ramones and the Sex Pistols ever appeared. They were visionaries that nobody ever heard of.

What happened to Death is as improbable as what happened to Rodriguez – perhaps even more so. They were signed to a contract and recorded their seven song album, but no record label wanted to release the album – perhaps they would have had the band been willing to change their name, but David was insistent – this band’s named was Death, and it was staying that way. Somehow, David got the master tapes of Death’s album – and spent the next three decades believing that someday, people would come looking for this music. The band eventually disbanded, Bobby and Dannis went on to form a reggae band, and David toiled in obscurity before dying far too young. But then a strange thing happened. People started listening to Death. They only had 500 copies of a doubled sided single pressed – and these became highly sought after by collectors. They also had a song on an obscure album about obscure punk bands from the 1970s.  The songs started being played at underground parties – and people loved it. Than Bobby’s son heard of the band, and did some research, only to discover that the band was his father and two uncles. And suddenly, just as Dave predicted, people came looking for those Death master tapes.

A Band Called Death is perhaps more conventional than Searching for Sugar Man, but no less satisfying. While Searching for Sugar Man was the documentary equivalent of a mystery – searching out the reclusive genius – A Band Called Death doesn’t hide the Hackney brothers away until the final act. Instead, it puts them front and center – which is a good thing, because part of what makes A Band Called Death such a good documentary is how emotional it is. You can tell the Hackney brothers loved each other – and how emotional the two surviving members of Death are when recalling their brother David – who in their words was a “genius” type, who eventually smoked and drank himself into an early grave. It had to be frustrating from him, being ahead of his time by only a few years and never getting any credit for it.

Documentaries were made for movies like A Band Called Death – you couldn’t make up what happened to this band, how they were virtually rejected for a decade, unknown for two more, and then finally found their niche – and starting getting the credit they deserve. Perhaps a screenwriter could come up with the story, but who would ever believe it? Like the music of Rodriguez in Searching for Sugar Man, the music by Death truly is great. Politicians in My Eyes in particular is a great punk song, but the entire album (which we hear, although cut up, throughout the movie) should have made Death famous when they recorded it way back in 1975. Better late than never I guess.

Movie Review: 20 Feet from Stardom

Thursday, August 8, 2013

Movie Review: 20 Feet from Stardom

20 Feet from Stardom
Directed by: Morgan Neville.
Featuring: Lou Adler,Stephanie 'Stevvi' Alexander, Patti Austin, Chris Botti, David Bowie, Ray Charles, Merry Clayton, Sheryl Crow, Lisa Fischer, Judith Hill, Mick Jagger, Mabel John, Gloria Jones, Jo Lawry, Claudia Lennear, Darlene Love, Lynn Mabry, Bill Maxwell, Bette Midler, Nia Peeples, Janice Pendarvis, Phil Spector, Bruce Springsteen, Sting, Luther Vandross, Táta Vega, Stevie Wonder.

Because I am a fan of the Rolling Stones and Martin Scorsese, I have heard one of their greatest songs – Gimme Shelter – approximately a million times. If you know the song, you know that it doesn’t just feature Jagger on vocals, but has a memorable refrain that has a dynamic female voice singing at full tilt. It’s one of my favorite vocal performances of all time, and until 20 Feet to Stardom, I never knew who sang it. Now I know – it was Merry Clayton – who had a long career as a backup singer, but was never able to break through as a solo artist. 20 Feet to Stardom is about Clayton – and many others like her – who have all the talent – in some cases much more talent – than the music stars we all know and love, but for whatever reason never had much success as a solo artist. Documentaries exist for stories like this.

The movie begins its narrative in the 1960s. In the early days of the decade, backup singers where pretty, blonde and boring – they faded into the background, because that is what they were expected to do. But through the decade, backup singers changed – and that’s mainly because people started letting African American singers background. These women could sing with the best of them, and if you had a producer – like Phil Spector – who knew how to use them, they could elevate any song they worked on. Spector had Darlene Love under contract – and she sang backup on many songs, and even recorded songs that were released under other band’s names. Spector kept promising her a career of her own – but never delivered – and because she was under contract, there was little she could do about it. When her contract finally ended, she signed somewhere else – hopeful to finally get her career off the ground – only to have her new label “sell her” back to Spector. It may have taken decades, but at least Love finally got some recognition – she’s in the Rock n’ Roll Hall of Fame. Most of the other backup singers will never get that sort of recognition.

Watching 20 Feet from Stardom  is fascinating in a number of ways. First of all, who ever really thinks about the backup singers? We see them in every concert, standing in the background, dancing and adding in some vocals, but no one really pays much attention to them. But this is why a documentary about them works so well – they have seen a lot in the music industry, worked on some of the greatest songs of all time, and have many stories to tell. And secondly, it makes you hear songs that you have known for years in an entirely different light – whether it’s Gimme Shelter or Bowie’s Young Americans or Lou Reed’s Walk on the Wild Side to Sweet Home Alabama and everything in between. It’s amazing home much of those songs greatest moments come not from the frontman, but the backup singers.

And it’s also fascinating to see what makes the difference between becoming a star and not. It’s rarely talent – after seeing this movie, you’ll have to say that rarely have you ever heard a better singer than Lisa Fischer – but despite a Grammy for her solo album, she never became a celebrity in her own right – and still sings backup (and loves it). Racism certainly played a role in some of the people in this movie not making it. Or sometimes, they don’t have the right “look”. Or while they are talented singers, they are dependant on others for songwriting and promotion. Sometimes it’s a lack of ego or ambition – a willingness to grab hold of it and not let go. And often it’s just plain old dumb luck.

20 Feet from Stardom is a wonderful documentary – that is angry and sad yet invigorating and inspirational. It shines a light on a little considered corner in the world of music. This is the type of story that documentaries are made for.

Movie Review: Our Nixon

Movie Review: Our Nixon

Our Nixon
Directed by: Penny Lane.

Has there been a President who has had more movies made about them than Richard Nixon? Over 40 years since Watergate have gone by, and we will cannot get enough of Nixon. The dramatic features about the man range from Robert Altman’s wonderfully profane one man show, with Philip Baker Hall as the President on the eve of his resignation, Secret Honor, to the absurd comedy Dick, with Dan Hedaya being undone by two blonde bimbos, to the two-hander of Ron Howard’s Frost/Nixon, with Frank Langella at his paranoid best, and best of all, Oliver Stone’s Nixon, which elevated the story into an almost Shakespeare like tragedy. I’m not sure how many docs have been made about the man, or how many books, but I think it’s safe to say that pretty much everything that could be said or written about him, has probably already been done. Which is why I was drawn to Our Nixon – which shows Super 8 footage shot by three top Nixon aids – H.R. Haldeman, John Ehlrichmand and Dwight Chapin – all of whom served time as part of the Watergate scandal. What the filmmakers promised was a more intimate look at the man than had been seen before. Unfortunately, that’s not really what we get here.

It’s true that the Super 8 footage seen in Our Nixon has never been seen before – it was confiscated as part of the Watergate investigation, and been kept under lock and key ever since. Haldeman, Ehrlichman and Chapin seem to have been three of those people who document everything they do – and so we do see footage of Nixon that the media would never have gotten. The problem with the movie is simple – the footage isn’t all that enlightening. By itself, it doesn’t really show you much of anything about Nixon that you didn’t already know. And the movie relies heavily on previously recorded interviews with the participants, and old news reports, and portions of Nixon’s “secret” White House tapes to tell the story. And the story is the same one that has been told about Nixon for years now – how his pettiness and ego got in his way – it was his ego and drive that got him to the highest office in the land – and also forced him to resign from it.

I’m not sure who the target audience for Our Nixon really is. I’m hardly a Nixon expert, but still, I didn’t find anything in the movie to be all that enlightening or new that I didn’t already know about Nixon. If you’re surprised how he talks about Daniel Ellsburg, the Washington Post or “fags”, than you probably don’t know much about Nixon in the first place. And if that’s the case, I’m not sure Our Nixon would be the place to start. The film seems to rely on at least some prior knowledge of Nixon and Watergate in order to function.

In short, I think the problem with the film is that director Penny Lane found there wasn’t much of interest in the released footage, and tried to string a narrative out of it anyway. Our Nixon isn’t a bad film – it held my interest – it’s just that some old home movies from some of Nixon’s advisers doesn’t seem like enough of a reason to be to make a documentary.

Note: I saw the film during one of it’s Broadcasts on CNN in early August ahead of its theatrical release at the end of the month. This wasn’t the best way to see the film – which is only 84 minutes, but was slotted in a 2 hour time slot – meaning that CNN seemed to take extended commercial breaks every 10 minutes or so, which undeniably altered the flow of the film. I stand by my review, which I didn’t find all that enlightening, but fully admit that I may have liked it more had it been allowed to play at a more natural pace.

Movie Review: Blackfish

Tuesday, July 23, 2013

Movie Review: Blackfish

Blackfish
Directed by: Gabriela Cowperthwaite
Written by:  Gabriela Cowperthwaite & Eli B. Despres.

I am hardly an animal rights hardliner (I’m not going to stop eating meat any time too soon), but I am really starting to be convinced that perhaps it’s not the best idea to cage wild animals solely for the purpose of human amusement. The Oscar winning documentary The Cove (2009) was about dolphins, and how tortured they are in captivity and how callously they are killed. Now comes Blackfish, which wants to, and succeeds, in doing the same thing for Orcas. It focuses on one Orca in particular – Tilikum – who is now responsible for the death of three people – two trainers and an idiot who snuck into SeaWorld and thought it would be fun to swim with an Orca. Watching the film, it is impossible to feel anything but sympathy for Tilikum – who has had such a hard life that goes against his own animal instincts that you cannot really blame him for what he does. That doesn’t mean I don’t feel sympathy for the people who died because of Tilikum – I do, even if I just called that one guy an idiot (and I’ll stand by that). But when you take an animal out of his natural habitat, lock him in a small pool with other whales who don’t like him, force him to perform on a daily basis for years on end, it’s no wonder that he snapped.

Blackfish essentially tells Tilikum’s story through the perspective of the people who trained him, and whales like him, in parks such as SeaWorld. It starts with a harrowing recollection of how these whale were initially captured – a story that brings one of the fishermen to tears when he recalls just how cruel it turned out to be. Now, most animals at places like SeaWorld are now one that are born and bred in captivity – but Tilikum was not. He was ripped away from his family and friends – and if you think that’s no big deal, just wait until you hear the Orca experts describe just how emotionally evolved Orcas are, and how interconnected their family units are.

Tilikum is captured, and sent to a low rent amusement park in Victoria B.C. – where he is mistreated by a trainer using “negative” reinforcement, and locked away each night in a small tank with two female whales, who don’t like him very much, and constantly “rake” him – essentially running their teeth along his body, leaving wounds and permanent scars. In the wild, Tilikum could get away, but in captivity, he is trapped, and has no choice but to suffer the abuse. One day, a trainer slips, and their foot falls into the water – and Tilikum drags her under, and kills her. Although reports vary as to which of the three whales actually killed the trainer – eyewitnesses say it was Tilikum – and they could tell because he is the one with the floppy dorsal fin. After that, the park closes down and Tilikum is sold to SeaWorld – who keeps right on training him and making him perform every day. And while SeaWorld is undeniably better than the low-rent park that had him Tilikum the first time, it’s also hard to deny that “better” in this context is a relative term.

Blackfish, like The Cove, does not really try to be a fair and balanced documentary. It requested on multiple occasions, according to the documentary, to get someone from SeaWorld to speak to them on camera – and of course they refused. For the most part than Blackfish is certainly an advocacy documentary – one that argues that confining Orcas in captivity is devastating to them, and makes them act out in ways they normally do not do. After all, there has never been a fatal Orca attack on a human recorded in the wild, but Tilikum now has three fatalities on his record himself. I would have liked to have seen the “other side” of the issue as it were – but judging from the various statements from SeaWorld in response to the documentary – which are mainly corporate speak, and “refutes” points that the documentary doesn’t even make at times – I doubt they would have shed too much light on the subject. After all, SeaWorld is a multi-million dollar corporation, with many theme parks across America. They have a vested financial interest in keeping Orcas in captivity – and keeping them working with trainers. It makes for a better show.

As it stands, the movie is mainly made up of former SeaWorld trainers – all but one of whom has had a change of heart over the years. They question the training (or lack thereof) that they received before getting into the water with the whales, and the ones who worked directly with Tilikum say they were never given his complete history. The lone trainer who doesn’t seem to agree that Orcas should not be held in captivity argues that Tilikum is an isolated case – and should be treated as such – rather than a condemnation on the entire industry. Yet the movie does document other – fatal and non-fatal – incidents involving Orcas. While it is true (apparently) that there an Orca has never attacked and killed a human in their natural habitat – just in captivity – Orcas kill just about everything else. They kill other whales, sharks, dolphins, fish and as shown in some home footage in the documentary, sea lions. Orcas are predators – and when held in captivity with none of their usual prey to eat, doesn’t it make sense that once in a while, they are going to attack humans? You cannot blame an animal for being an animal.

I feel nothing but sympathy for the people whose death Tilikum caused – especially Dawn Brancheau, because of the three victims, it is her the movie focuses on, and her story is told by people who knew her. She was known as one of SeaWorld’s best and most responsible trainers. Like the other trainers in the movie, she got involved because she loved animals – they all care deeply for the Orcas that they worked with. Hers, and the other two deaths, are tragedies. But they are a tragedy that could have been avoided – and I don’t think we can realistically say that Tilikum is responsible for them – he’s just as much of a victim as they are. That was the overwhelming feeling I got from watching Blackfish – that Tilikum deserved a better life than the one he has had.

Movie Review: The Act of Killing

Friday, July 19, 2013

Movie Review: The Act of Killing

The Act of Killing
Directed by: Joshua Oppenheimer.

When most people think of documentary films, they imagine a series of talking heads interspersed with archival footage. This is what most documentaries over the years have been, and probably will continue to be for years to come. But more and more often, documentary filmmakers are stretching the boundaries of the genre – doing fascinating, interesting things, and coming up with movies as original as any fiction film. Joshua Oppenheimer’s The Act of Killing is one of these documentaries. There will be people who complain that the movie is too easy on or sympathetic with its subjects or bring up ethical concerns with how Oppenheimer goes about getting the scenes he does, but it didn’t bother me. The Act of Killing is one of the most original, best documentaries of the year.

In 1965-66 the military tried to overthrow the government in Indonesia, failed, but then used “gangsters” to slaughter over half a million “communists” that led to a massive change in the political climate of the country. If you were identified as a communist, you were killed – although many weren’t really communists – they were union members, critics of the military or native Chinese citizens. This “purge” was supported by most Westerns governments, but what it was really genocide. But while most people who take part in this sort of slaughter are eventually held accountable – or at least viewed as murderers and war criminals, the gangsters who slaughtered the “communists” have been celebrated as heroes in their home country ever since. The Act of Killing sets out to explore this act of mass killing – and mainly the men who did it.

They are not hard to find. Everyone knows who they are, and in some cases, they live on the same street as the family of their victims. They also make no attempt to try and hide their involvement. They openly brag about it to anyone who will listen – often talking in front of their young grandchildren, and whoever else happens to be around. Members of the military don’t make it much of a secret either that they still respect these confessed killers – and the media brags about the role they played as well. In short, it doesn’t seem like anyone has any regrets about what happened or all the people they killed.

Oppenheimer comes up with an interesting way to get the killers to tell him about what happened – by having them recreate them. Learning that many of the killers loved American movies, the killers recreate the events in any way they choose to – and use different films genres – film noir, war film even the most bizarre musical I have ever seen – to show us what they did. This makes the whole movie rather surreal, and often very unsettling. The killers themselves play themselves, as well as their victims, and they use neighborhood children to play the kids of their victims, screaming and crying. The whole thing is surreal, disturbing and extremely effective.

Out of everyone Oppenheimer talks to, Anwar Congo starts to stand out. One of the gangsters who performed the killings, he starts out with the most swagger of anyone – bragging about what he did, showing how he came up with a way to make the killing less bloody. He seems completely at peace with everything he has done. But gradually, he lets the walls he has built around himself down. He confesses to nightmares he has had for years about the killings – which of course, they recreate – and when he has to play the victim in the “film noir” sequence, he breaks down – he cannot go through with it, because it feels too real to him. When questioned later by Oppenheimer, he says he now knows how his victims felt – but Oppenheimer challenges that idea. Congo knew he was going to be okay – his victims knew they were going to die.

The movie never loses sight of the fact that Congo is a murderer – by his own estimate, he killed at least 100 people. But it also never loses sight of the fact that Congo is a human being, not some kind of mythical monster. This will trouble some viewers – they want to hate Congo, see him not as a human, but as evil. But what Congo did was human – many, many people the world over have done what he has done. I was reminded by a moment in Werner Herzog’s TV documentary series On Death Row (Herzog, by the way, lends his name, alongside Errol Morris as an executive producer to this film) when one of the prosecutors says it is very easy for Herzog to “humanize” the murderer he is interviewing and Herzog replies “I do not humanize her. She is a human being, period.” And so is Congo. What he did was vile and evil, but Congo is a complicated human – and he is at the center of this fascinating documentary that deserves to be seen and debated, no matter what you make of it.

Movie Review: The Source Family

Monday, May 27, 2013

Movie Review: The Source Family

The Source Family
Directed:  Maria Demopoulos & Jodi Wille.

Watching The Source Family, I couldn’t help but think there was more to the story than I was being told. This is a documentary about Jim Baker aka Father Yod, a WWII hero, suspected bank robber, and probable murderer, who in the late 1960s and early 1970s – when he was well into middle age – started what ended up essentially being a cult. Baker was a successful restaurateur, who abandoned not one but two families before his “enlightenment” who started The Source restaurant in Los Angeles (famously seen in Woody Allen’s Annie Hall – the hilarious clip of which is in the movie). It was a vegan restaurant – one of the first of its kind in America – drew celebrities such as Goldie Hawn, Jane Fonda, John Lennon, etc. and was hugely successful. But the restaurant hides a darker secret – that Baker was essentially a cult leader. He would draw in young people – especially women, many under the age of 18 – and then would give up their life savings to the “family” and then abandon their previous lives to wait tables, be busboys or chefs in the restaurant. One woman was engaged to a famous photographer when she joined – and wanted him to join too – something to this day he finds incredible. As the film progresses, things get darker and darker – Baker ordering any girl under 18 in the family to get married (to avoid statutory rape charges) and dictating who ends up with who. Throwing over the woman he was married to – and who the family considered a “mother” to his father, so he can take on 13 different wives at the same time. When the family abandons LA and moves to Hawaii, the neighbors apparently complained about “this Manson family” type – and while it’s true The Source Family never murdered anyone, it’s not hard to draw some similarities between the two groups.

This well could have served as the basis for an excellent documentary – but in order for it to be one; the film had to be darker than it is – more probing into Baker and his group. As it stands, this is a mostly sympathetic portrait of a man who you could certainly argued brainwashed young women – sometimes criminally young women – into having sex with him. The movie interviews some former members – but other than the ex-wife Robin who he tosses aside, and who still says “I’ve never known love like the love I had with him” even though she’s still bitter and angry with him, almost all of the interview subjects have seemingly nothing but fond memories of Baker. True, some admit that eventually they grew tired of Baker and moved on with their lives – whether it was the sex with young women, his forbidding the family from seeking medical treatment or something else, eventually everyone moved on. And yet, the still talk of him as if they are in awe of him – and recount the “miracles” he performed. No one admits to regretting the time they spent as part of the family. Many in fact still keep in contact with each other, and while they are no longer a cult, still look back in reverence at those days.

Perhaps that is what directors Maria Demopoulos and Jodi Wille had in mind with The Source Family – to show how powerful these types of charismatic leaders can be – that even after decades, people still worship him. But that doesn’t really come across in The Source Family. Surely there are some people out there they could have interviewed that would have delved more into the dark side of this family – and of Baker himself. Instead, the movie seems spend most of its time praising Baker, praising the music his family made, and looking back with nostalgia at a bygone era.

As it stands, The Source Family seems more like a rough draft than a finished product. The film feels half formed and is incomplete. Perhaps the filmmakers needed more interviews – to cast a wider net (not many of the 13 wives are interviewed for example), or perhaps they just needed to push their interview subjects harder. But the finished product feels almost like an endorsement of this cult rather than a full examination of it.

Movie Review: Happy People: A Year in the Taiga

Thursday, April 25, 2013

Movie Review: Happy People: A Year in the Taiga

Happy People: A Year in the Taiga
Directed by: Dmitry Vasyukov & Werner Herzog.
Written by: Rudolph Herzog & Werner Herzog & Dmitry Vasyukov.

Werner Herzog is one of the mad geniuses of the cinema. Reading his autobiography, Life Itself, following his death, I was struck my an observation Roger Ebert made about Herzog – that he has never made an unworthy film, never made a film simply for commercial reasons. Ebert is correct of course – even if I haven’t loved all the Herzog films I have seen (and although I have seen many, there are many more I haven’t seen – he’s one of the most prolific filmmakers in the world). Herzog goes out and makes precisely the film he wants to make each and every time. So even if I remain unimpressed by films like My Son, My Son What Have Ye Done? or The Wild Blue Yonder, or a few others, I admire that Herzog remains true to himself. He makes the films he wants to make – you can like them or not. I don’t think he really cares.

With Happy People: A Year in the Taiga, what Herzog did was take the four documentaries made by director Dmitry Vasyukov about trappers in Siberia, and edited them together into one, coherent 90 minute film – and added his own narration, which is invaluable, because Herzog has perhaps the best voice of anyone in the world. It’s so calm and confident, and seemingly intelligent, that sometimes you miss how hilarious the narration can be – like in the wonderful documentary Encounters at the End of the World, set in Antarctica. Happy People isn’t quite on that same level – it’s more matter of fact than that. But it is gorgeous, fascinating, little documentary.

The Taiga is a huge area in Siberia, where trappers have been plying their trade for generations in pretty much the same way. True, now they use snowmobiles and chainsaws, but aside from that they pretty much go about their trade as they always have. Their traps are primitive – but they are that way because they are more effective than anything man has come up with since. They make their own skies, because doing so allows to travel greater distances with ease than factory made ones. They spend months on their own, moving from one hut to another, checking on their traps for the sable they catch, with no one but their dogs for company. And their dogs do everything for them – without the dogs, they couldn’t survive. No matter what the political situation is, it doesn’t affect these men. The most lighthearted moment comes when a politician shows up in the small village on a boat asking for re-election – and finds for the most part, no one cares, until he breaks out the flour that the villagers want.

I am fascinated by a movie like this – that shows a way of life much different than most people live. It is a simple life, but as Herzog (and the title) point out, it is a happy life –precisely the life these people want to live. They do what the want, they are experts at their craft, and have no plans on changing. There is nothing wrong with that.

Happy People: A Year in the Taiga is a simple film. The footage by Vasyukov is beautiful – especially in the winter months. And it shows us the type of people we rarely see in films. While the film does not rank among the best of Herzog’s career, it is yet another example of him doing precisely what he wants to do. How can you argue with that?

Movie Review: The Central Park Five

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

Movie Review: The Central Park Five

The Central Park Five
Directed by: Ken Burns & Sarah Burns & David McMahon.
Written by: Ken Burns & Sarah Burns & David McMahon.

In 1989, five black and Latino teenagers were arrested, tried and convicted of attacking and raping a white woman who was jogging through Central Park. The case garnered national attention, and certainly was horrifying to everyone in New York City – a city that was already deeply divided along racial lines (remember, this was the same year Spike Lee directed his masterpiece – Do the Right Thing). The media had a field day with the attack – describing the teens as a “wolf pack” and popularizing the term “wilding” – to describe such attacks by these large groups of non-white teenagers. This is a case that everyone heard about – even me, who was only 8 at the time.

How many people remember however that The Central Park Five were eventually exonerated? After spending anywhere between 6 and 13 years in prison, new evidence came to light. A man named Matias Reyes, who was arrested not long after the Central Park Five, and was convicted of being the East Side Rapist, responsible for many similar attacks. He eventually confessed to the crime – saying he committed it alone – and whose DNA was linked to the crime.

So, if they didn’t do the crime, and if they had no DNA evidence to convict them, than how did these five men get convicted in the first place? Simple – they confessed. But as we are seeing more and more often in the American Justice system, confessions are not always accurate. In this case, you have five teenagers – between 14 and 16 – who were questioned for hours on end, without a lawyer present, who eventually just gave in and confessed – although none took responsibility themselves, they all pointed the finger at the others, perhaps thinking that this way they could go home. Despite the fact that the confessions do not match each other, and have some glaring factual flaws in them, and despite the fact that now reasonable timeline could be established to make the prosecutions timeline fit, and despite the fact that even before trial, the DA knew the DNA evidence did not match any of the defendants, they pushed forward with the case – and got convictions.

The documentary The Central Park Five has been directed by Ken Burns, best known for his PBS documentaries, along with his daughter Sarah and son-in-law David McMahon. The movie is clearly not impartial – few documentaries truly are – and the filmmakers are clearly on the side of the five men – Kharey Wise, Kevin Richardson, Raymond Santana, Yusef Salaam and Anton McCray – all of which are interviewed (although one does not want his face shown). Perhaps this closed with these men can account for the film’s single biggest flaw – the fact that the filmmakers never really question the five on what they were really doing at the time of the attack. It’s pretty much undeniable that they are innocent of what they were charged and convicted for – but by their own admission, they were in Central Park that night as part of a large group of teenagers – perhaps up to 30 – and participated in other crimes that night. So while The Central Park Five were innocent of what they were charged with, they aren’t really completely innocent, are they? A more complex documentary would address this issue.

Yet, perhaps the movie doesn’t need to address it. After all, they weren’t charged with anything other than the attack and rape of the jogger – a crime which they are clearly innocent of. They served years behind bars for something they didn’t do – something that should not happen to anyone, despite what else they may be guilty of. What the movie does do is lay out a step by step process of how the cops and the DA got confessions and then convictions out of the suspects, and how the media ate up everything up they were fed, without ever questioning what really happened. The city was horrified by what happened, and in a race to sell papers, the different New York City papers piled on, seeing who could be the most outraged by the crime.

The Central Park Five joins the ranks of documentaries like the Paradise Lost trilogy and West of Memphis – all about the West Memphis Three, convicted of the murder of three young boys because of a confession by one of them. It makes you question the justice system – a system that seems more interested in getting results than getting correct results. This was a high profile case the police needed to close – and close it they did, even if they should have known they didn’t have the right people.