Thursday, July 08, 2004

What Does it Take to Make a Best-Selling Documentary? - Scrutinizing Michael Moore’s Fahrenheit 9/11

It’s been a while since I’ve had time to sit down and write about film. Sadly, it seems that 2004 has not been a great year for movies unless you have access to some the new Criterion releases on DVD – (“forgotten” classics by Visconti, Kurosawa, Ozu, Bergman, and Pasolini, among others); also, in the past year a German distributor has mounted the task of presenting the complete works of Rainer Werner Fassbinder on home video and DVD (Criterion recently released his award-winning BRD Trilogy). If you’re a film lover and you don’t like what’s in the theaters these days, there are options…

All of that aside, Fahrenheit 9/11 was released last week to American audiences despite considerable efforts to keep it out of theaters. The film attempts to connect the dots between the 2000 Florida presidential election debacle, the devastating events in New York and the Pentagon on September 11th, the Bush Administration and its ministry of fear, war profiteering, military recruitment and their prime target audience, innumerable lies about weapons of mass destruction, innumerable military follies in Iraq (needless brutality of Iraqi civilians that U.S. forces are liberating, needless destruction of Iraqi homes and families, the controversial use of torture on captives, etc.), the Bush Family (Poppa Bush in particular), the Osama Bin-Laden family, the ever increasing costs at the gas pump and finally, the mystery that most of us are dying to solve: is George W. Bush really as stupid as he looks? Is he a puppet manipulated by men and women that are cleverer than he is (conceivably everyone else in the country including my cat George)?

It would be daunting for anyone to take on such a monumental task, for the above mentioned themes amount to material for several films, not one. But Michael Moore seems to enjoy presenting himself with impossible feats, and he usually does a decent job of dealing with difficult subject matters despite his messy narratives and ill-supported claims. I often think of him (as many do) as a left-wing Rush Limbaugh – doling out a social critique that reads more Op/Ed than documentary – through the proliferation of film footage can border on the miraculous – his work seems to raise the inevitable question: how the hell did he get that on film?

It is notable that Moore’s newest effort had higher box-office receipts on its opening weekend than any other documentary – ever. Fahrenheit 9/11 brought in $21.8M in its first few days on the screen – not bad for a film that Disney Pictures decided it could not release due to unpopular themes. It was said that Miramax had picked up the film, but Miramax’s name does not appear in the title sequence (although Bob and Harvey Weinstein’s names do appear – aren’t they the heads of Miramax? – what happened? – did stockholders express overwhelming resistance?). One imagines that the rest of Hollywood will soon take up the charge of light brigade and start producing politically penetrating and controversial documentaries – given (of course) they get the right responses from test audiences and focus groups.

For a documentary to be this popular, it’s worth asking what exactly has earned the film all the attention. Are Americans really fed up with George W. Bush, or do they just want to see what all the hoopla is about? Was it the controversial nature of the film, the film’s celebrated struggle to reach distributors; or, did George W Bush’s (and others) unsavory comments about Michael Moore create a renewed (and increased) interest in his work? Are there really so many people who identify with Moore’s rhetoric? If so, why have they chosen to be silent these past few years? The answers to these questions are difficult to pinpoint; perhaps all of these reasons (and more) are part of why it is still difficult to see the film without buying tickets in advance.

As usual, Michael Moore knows that his audience is rife with prime-time expectations and he fails to disappoint their challenged expectations. His Comedia del Arte routine plays out without a great concern for presenting facts that could otherwise strengthen the mass of exposition that litters his film. This is often the weak link in Moore’s work. It disappoints because documentation (on the Florida election, for example) does exist. If writer Greg Pallast can get his hands on the document that Jeb Bush issued in Florida that profiled voters who would not be allowed access to the polls, surely our Canadian watchdog would have had access to Pallast’s work, or the document itself – apparently not. Moore also overlooks the fact that the White House spent $20M on an advertising campaign to get America “behind the war effort” – an important missing link in his rhetoric because he tries to examine the Bush Administration’s penchant for instilling fear among the populace. Rather, he chooses to sweep over the rug with images and voice-over narrative to tell the story in a way that more often that not feels like handholding.

There is also the difficult to dismiss evidence (that Moore chose to ignore) assembled by the MoveOn.org folks in the documentary Uncensored – a film that used insiders from the CIA and the White House to present the truth behind the lies that Colin Powell used in his presentation to the U.N. on weapons of mass destruction. Perhaps Moore didn’t want to tread on familiar ground (but seriously, compare the number of viewers of Uncensored with Fahrenheit 9/11 – whoops! Sorry, there is no comparison – Uncensored was distributed to those who made a contribution to the making of the film and it has not yet found its way to theaters).

It is hard, however, to criticize him for making Fahrenheit at a time when so many people seem out of the loop on the motivations behind the invasion of Iraq and indeed, behind the “work” in Florida that allowed Bush to take office. And yet it is important not to just let the film just wash over you and walk out afterward feeling like you really are informed.

On the other hand, it’s impressive that he has crystallized the enormous socio-political dung-heap that the Bush Administration has produced, and has put it out there where audiences can get to it in an easy to digest format. Most folks resist working too hard to get the facts unless their son or daughter is killed in a senseless war, conceivably designed for no other reason than to get corporations salivating over the potential for huge profits in this oil-rich region. This is a point that doesn’t go unnoticed (or perhaps unexploited) in Moore’s recent offering. Did I forget to mention that one of those corporations just happens to be owned by vice-president Dick Cheney, who, while being questioned last week by Senator Patrick Leahy (who suggested Cheney was war-profiteering), told Leahy to “go fuck himself”?

If nothing else, the film stands as an effort to wake America up – and it is possible that the best way of waking people up is to set an alarm – and surely Michael Moore’s film has all the alarming points of light associated with a wake-up call (and it also poses great satire!). It is clear that many Americans have been sleeping on the issues, perhaps fearful of stirring a fuss that would secure a reservation at a newfound resort in Guantanamo Bay. Perhaps we are the victims of a barrage of media images and sound-bytes that have neglected (or have blocked) a clearer presentation of the facts. While watching the film, it seems impossible that all the facts will ever be collected and digested without a certain amount of destructive bias.

Like Nixon’s Watergate scandal and countless other political mishaps, the facts are often hard to find, and it seems that Americans may never know the truth behind the issues. If the American public and the people of Iraq are lucky, Fahrenheit 9/11 may just live up to Michael Moore’s goal: to de-throne Child Bush and his war-mongering, capital-hungry cabinet members. Of course it remains to be seen whether or not Bush’s imagined successor will be able to withdraw US forces in Iraq as quickly as some would like to believe.

Finally, if the film were to have such an impact on the psyche of the American body politic (swaying an election as it were), it merely proves the fickle nature of that delicate and temporary condition: popular opinion in America and the public’s faith in media images to tell them how and what to think.

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Documentary

I would not have rented this film on my own. I've never seen Seinfeld, and have hitherto thought of this guy boldly, (well, arrogantly), as kind of an idiot. It turns out he isn't. The film is a documentary on comedians and the life of being on the road and working your act, refining it, suffering the bad nights, tearing apart the good ones in order to keep developing that thing, the ellusive rocking, kick-ass set. It's a really well done documentary, because there were times that I kept asking myself, "is this scripted, are they building characters in a docu-drama, or is this shit just happening...."

Comedian was a really satisfying film experience, and it reminded me a great deal of what it's like to tour and constantly examine your work and be at the beck and call of your material - one night you own it, one night it owns you. There's also GREAT music all the way through, from folks like Mingus, Miles, Ornette, and others...the spirit of improvisation is present in nearly every frame of the movie.

I would highly recommend renting this, it just came out on VHS and DVD. Although it's a film about comedy, or comedians, it's a rather serious film, with more psycological struggle than laughs. There's a young comedian in the film too (Orney Adams), and in one respect he almost ruins the film, because he's such an ass; but it's interesting that he's in there, because it shows how this younger generation is trying to wrestle the art from the older comics with little skill, but LOTS of attitude (sound familiar?). So, ultimately, it works, but his moments on screen are not the highlight of the film.

I came away from the film with lots of respect for Jerry Seinfeld, who "had it all" in many respects regarding "the business", but has tossed it all and is putting himself on the line by working night after night in small clubs on his art. There are scenes where he just walks in a club at the end of the night unannounced, takes the stage, and does his thing. See it, and tell me whether or not you gotta give the guy credit.

One of the lovely pay offs at the end of the film is Seinfeld visiting Bill Cosby on the road. Their discussion reminded me of how great Cosby is/was, and how much I enjoyed those comedy records he made in the 1960' and 70's.

It's definitely worth checking out. I'm glad I saw it.


Oakland, CA
June 2003

Weekend of Cinema 05/02/03 – 05/04/03

I have not sent reviews to my friends for a while, although I am currently writing an essay called, “Media and Terrorist Identity in Schlondorff & Von Trotta’s The Lost Honor of Katharina Blum”. I promise to send it as soon as it is finished, which should be next week, possibly later (I’m stuck in research land). For the time being, I’m going to catch up with a few short reviews of some recent film experiences.

Over this last weekend I saw a smattering of cinema: some artful, some strictly commercial, some walking the line between both, some deeply probing in the realm of emotion and spirituality, some disguised as pop and displaying some great writing, some just falling flat on their faces (despite favorable reviews), some displaying high intellect and very little feeling, and some delightfully informative.

Here are a few words on all that I saw. Usually, I try (read: with great effort) to write more in-depth, but in this case, I thought that some of you might just want to know, should I see this damn thing or not?

Friday – 9:30 p.m.
Little Bear

With two delightful three-year old houseguests hanging out on the big red couch in our North Oakland home, we displayed a few short animation films made for children that I sort of watched. I was eating while Madeline in Hollywood ran, so I can’t comment on it!

Based on Elsa Homeluk Minnarik’s Little Bear series that I love to use in readings with children, the film in comparison, was a little limp. The books are animated by the great Maurice Sendak (creator of Where the Wild Things Are, et al) and the films are not, which was a disappointment. The delightful, delicate, and naive quality of Little Bear’s personality that comes across in the books are sorely missing from the short films (there are three on the video). The tender exchanges between Mother Bear and Little Bear are reduced to fairly pedestrian conversations – in short, nothing in particular to grab your attention and take notice. Your kids might like them, but you’ll want to file your nails or work a crossword while they’re running – or entertain dinner guests while the kids are in the other room.

Friday – 10:30 p.m.
Mostly Martha

I avoided this film in the theaters but brought it home to check out. I liked it better than I thought I would; my initial lack of enthusiasm was a response to the fairly uneventful previews that circulated last year. A romantic comedy about a control freak that runs a kitchen – wasn’t that already done (to death) in Big Night?

The pleasant surprise was that the film had other plot lines to keep the viewer interested. I will not go into details, because I don’t want to give away parts of the film that are worth watching. Suffice to say that there are developments to help fuel what would otherwise be a fairly unresponsive romantic comedy. Among the problems that remained was a distinct lack of character development. It is clear that Martha is an obsessive-compulsive that alienates just about everyone around her – why she is like that is never dealt with (okay, some people are just born that way), nor can the viewer sense that she changes much as a result of all the trials and tribulations that the script lends to the mix. In the end, she’s able to kiss an Italian – what a stretch! The acting is functional, the story line unbelievable – the final evaluation: great child actor in a supporting role, but little else at this banquet on which to dine.

Saturday – 2 p.m.
Fellini: I’m a Born Liar

I have seen a few documentaries on the great Italian filmmaker that broke the mold for imagination. I entered the theater hoping that, as my next-door neighbor suggested, “if I just see one or two new stills that I hadn’t seen before, I’ll be happy”.

Fellini: I’m a Born Liar delivered so much more. The film was poetic, quite informative and celebratory, albeit a little slow in places. The main event was Fellini himself on film discussing his childhood (“I always identified with the vagabonds and tramps in our town”), his work, his approach to a variety of technical and thematic problems, his approach to working with actors, and his approach to dealing with producers and studios. About 30% of the film is dedicated to the obligatory talking heads, discussing their work with Fellini – some of which are salutary, some of which are fairly critical (mealy-mouthed Donald Sutherland complaining about how he actually had to work at his role in Cassanova, Roberto Benigni mumbling incomprehensible stories about receiving direction from his fellow countryman, Terrance Stamp waxing astonished about the director’s process).

I’m a Born Liar includes discussions with Giuletta Masina, Marcello Mastroianni, and a host of artists that assisted Fellini on many of his films (cinematographers, art designers, producers, more actors, etc.). There were lots of excerpts, both from the films and from locations that Fellini used in his movies. The films were not identified, which might be frustrating for viewers that don’t know the director’s work. Although one reviewer complained bitterly about this, all of the identification appears at the end of the film as the credits start to roll.

If you like Fellini’s work, see the film. If you don’t like Fellini’s films, you might develop an appreciation for his artistic process and catch a glimpse of something that could inspire you to take a second look. If you don’t give a hoot about Italian films or the huge influence they have had on world cinema and Hollywood, stay at home and wait for the next re-run of Seinfeld – Fellini would be the last one to deny a body its fool’s paradise.

Saturday – 6 p.m.
Holes

I read several rave reviews about this film and a few kids that I know recommended it to me. Usually I can trot out my inner child and see a film made for young people and enjoy it – if it is well made. Holes proved that I am firmly an adult and require some semblance of grace with my mindless entertainment. I sat through the film asking myself, “When will this end?”

I can’t say anything nice about this film, except that Patricia Arquette and Sigourney Weaver are in it, and usually that would be enough to get me through some otherwise pitiable cinematic efforts. In the case of Holes, it was merely a waste of good talent. This attempt at refreshing moviemaking brings together a group of unlikely comrades – a PC-advised ethnically-balanced cast (rife with stereotypes) – on a secluded work farm to dig away at salvation in the form of buried treasure, and the parallel stories that buried said treasure, eventually plays out in a (oh, really?) test of wits between good and evil (or the greedy and the poor in this case).

Saturday – 10 p.m.
Blue

A dear friend recently made a gift of Krzysztof Kieslowski’s Trois Coleurs on DVD, so now I can sit and obsess over them endlessly in the privacy of my own home. Over the weekend, my wife Sarah and I delved into the spiritual web of stories that Blue, White and Red weave quite naturally and with great results.

I cannot say enough good things about these films. They achieve what is usually thought of as impossible – the registration and tracking of the human soul, and a non-affected glimpse into the realm intimacy. One can approach these films from a variety of viewpoints and come away from them with a wealth of critical perspectives or interpretations. The three DVD discs have LOTS of extra features – interviews with Juliette Binoche, Julie Delpy and Irene Jacob, among others, as well as interviews with the great Polish director and his collaborators and a host of film historians.

I will be brief here, because I want to write about all three of the films in a longer piece. Suffice to say that I loved Bleu, Blanc, and Rouge – all of which I saw over the weekend. If you have not already checked them out, get around to it! Having viewed them closely in succession, I am beginning to see the way that they rely on and inform each other to create an indelible triptych.

Saturday – Midnight
Endgame

A few years ago, the Irish Gate Theater of Dublin Company paired with the Beckett on Film Production crew to commit the complete (19) plays of Samuel Beckett to film. They attracted lots of great directors (Neil Jordan, David Mamet, Patricia Rozema and others) and actors (Julianne Moore, Jeremy Irons, Kristin Scott-Thomas, the late Sir John Gielgud, Juliet Stevenson) to take part in the project and the end result, Beckett on Film, stands as a major achievement.

Several years ago, I saw a production of Endgame at Berkeley Repertory Theater. I had read the play several times beforehand and thought I knew what to expect. What I saw was a powerful realization of one of the finest plays about despair ever written. In comparison, the filmed version, directed by Conor McPherson and starring Michael Gambon and David Thewlis, left me a bit cold at times. There were certainly moments of absolute psychological clarity and revelatory brilliance. At other times, the director and the actors played the easy role with Beckett, and that is to look away from the terrible humor and beauty that can be found in nearly every line of Endgame.

In some of the bonus material in the DVD package, a few of the directors and critics volley the idea of whether or not Beckett’s works for theater should in fact be filmed. What is true is that Beckett was very strict about actors and directors following his directions to the letter. But after reading several biographies and critical studies over the years, I find no evidence that Beckett ever made any statements about his plays NOT being filmed. The Irish production company set out with this vision – that the directors and actors were not allowed to change the text in any way – fair enough!

When I watch these filmed discussions, all I can think of is how stuffy and narrow minded the critics are for questioning this issue. But I also realize that part of what they have to say is true: that theater is a three-dimensional experience that viewers take in and evaluate on their own. With a camera and a director, all of the shots are pre-determined – the audience is not allowed to look at Clov (for example) if the camera is tightly focused on Hamm.

This critical perspective may sound didactic, but it is not without its merits. Live theater, like live music that is perceived by a viewer/listener is best experienced in person – a strange synchronicity of vibration, sound, image and the physical space where you are witnessing the work occurs, and this almost never happens sitting in front of a screen. Filmed images can, of course, astonish us by presenting an eye for image design, timing, and other countless miracles that occur when great directors make movies.

Ultimately, the end product (our experience) and ones’ preference for theater over film (or vice versa) is best left to the individual. While I deeply respect the folks behind the Beckett on Film Project for bringing these plays to the screen for greater accessibility and access (some of the realizations, like the Atom Egoyan – John Hurt collaboration on Krapp’s Last Tape, are simply fantastic), there’s nothing like seeing Endgame, Waiting for Godot, or Happy Days on stage with actors that are not afraid to commit a great deal of effort and concentration to the texts.

Sunday – 11:45 a.m.
Bend it Like Beckham

Like Saturday’s Holes, Bend it Like Beckham had its share of obvious plot devices. Fortunately, the latter succeeded with the advent of greater development on characters that simply had more appeal. The relation between the actors in Beckham was far sweeter and more heartfelt, the acting was better, there were no obvious bad guys that had to be battled, and no absurd ending sequence where a string of problems were miraculously solved in a single gesture.

Although Beckham’s ending did have its fair share of lunacy, the heroines wore it better (maybe if I were a 13 year old girl I would have found the cast of Holes more appealing – maybe not!). The distinct difference, if I may go on with this ridiculous comparison, is that there was no “Good ole’ American Good vs. Evil” to have to stomach. Perhaps the British, with many more centuries of experience in Imperialism than America, know how to couch it all in a way that proves no one is above laughing at. This film will not change your life, but it may leave you longing to be a 20 year-old female soccer player. Stars Parminder Nagra and Keira Knightly made it look like a lot more fun than a barrel full of shovels in the hot desert.

Sunday – 3:45 p.m.
X2 - United

This is the unusual case where the sequel surpasses the original. The first film spent lots of time introducing the various characters, and then – whoops! Time was up and the film was over.

In X2 (I’ll keep it short), all the characters are familiar (we learned their creation myths in the first film) and although audiences are introduced to a few new recruits, there leaves lots of time to work out some major conflicts between the followers of Xavier and the ever-invasive United States Military, who just happen to have Magneto in check. The opening scene where Alan Cumming in full mutant attire attacks the president of the United States (if only!) is worth the price of admission.

In short – it just gets better as it goes along. There are lots of places where the film could have fallen into check with too much music, too much glory, too much heroism, or too much inconsequential love interest, but director Bryan Singer knows his job and he keeps the train running. (What’s that? Halle Berry in a movie and no gratuitous sex(y) scenes?) The film moves incredibly smoothly, the writing is better than you would expect in a fantasy-action-film-based-on-a-comic-book, and the acting does what it should do – keeps the viewers engaged in a fantastic world of superhuman mutants (the last barrier to celebrate diversity? – count me in!) without ever really questioning their unusual powers or unique vulnerabilities. If you were ever a kid, you might just want to see this one.

Sunday – 8 p.m.
White

See my comments above for Blue

Sunday – 10 p.m.
Red

See my comments above for Blue

Favorite 100 Films

1)Fanny & Alexander (Bergman)
2)The Seven Samurai (Kurosawa)
3)Juliet of the Spirits (Fellini)
4)Stalker (Tarkovsky)
5)Belle et la Bette (Cocteau)
6)The Bicycle Thief (DeSica)
7)The 39 Steps (Hitchcock)
8)Alphaville (Goddard)
9)Wild Strawberries (Bergman)
10)The Cranes Are Flying (Kalatozov)
11)The Big Sleep (Hawks)
12)Aguirre, the Wrath of God (Herzog)
13)The Decalogue (Kiezlowski)
14)Nosferatu (Herzog)
15)2001: A Space Odyssey (Kubrick)
16)The Elephant Man (Lynch)
17)The Godfather (Coppola)
18)The Seventh Seal (Bergman)
19)8 ½ (Fellini)
20)Nights of Cabiria (Fellini)
21)Frankenstein (Whale)
22)The Shining (Kubrick)
23)Lost Highway (Lynch)
24)Pink Flamingoes (Waters)
25)Battleship Potemkin (Eisenstein)
26)La Strada (Fellini)
27)Eraserhead (Lynch)
28)Wings of Desire (Wenders)
29)Ran (Kurosawa)
30)Solaris (Tarkovsky)
31)Orpheus (Cocteau)
32)Ballad of a Soldier (Chukhrai)
33)Au Revior, Les Enfants (Malle)
34)I Am Curious – Yellow (Sjoman)
35)Das Boot (W Petersen)
36)The Women (Cukor)
37)M (Lang)
38)Discreet Charm Bourgeoisie (Bunel)
39)Passion of Joan of Arc (Dreyer)
40)Pandora’s Box (Pabst)
41)All About My Mother (Almaldovar)
42)Touch of Evil (Welles)
43)The Trial (BBC version)
44)Apocalypse Now (Coppola)
45)Andrei Rublev (Tarkovsky)
46)North by Northwest (Hitchcock)
47)The Ice Storm (Ang Lee)
48)Dr. Strangelove (Kubrick)
49)La Aventura (Antonioni)
50)Exterminating Angel (Bunel)
52)Monty Python & Holy Grail (Jones)
53)Onibaba (Shindo)
54)Persona (Bergman)
54)Never Cry Wolf (Ballard)
55)Men With Guns (Sayles)
56)Alien (Scott)
57)Once Upon A Time in West (Leone)
58)Psycho (Hitchcock)
59)Lost Honor of K Blum (Schlondorff)
60)A Woman on the Edge (Cassavetes)
61)Paris, Texas (Wenders)
62)Orlando (Potter)
63)Scenes from a Marriage (Bergman)
64)Crimes and Misdemeanors (Allen)
65)Strangers on a Train (Hitchcock)
66)The Dead (Huston)
67)Rashomon (Kurosawa)
68)Midnight Express (Parker)
69)Female Trouble (Waters)
70)Le Trou (Becker)
71)Walkabout (Roeg)
72)His Girl Friday (Hawks)
73)The Wild Bunch (Peckinpaugh)
74)Silence of the Lambs (J Demme)
75)Brazil (Gillian)
76)Shoeshine (De Sica)
77)Le Temps Retrouve (Ruiz)
78)The Last Wave (Weir)
79)Red (from Trois Coluers) (Kyzlowski)
80)Black Orpheus (Camus)
81)Prospero’s Books (Greenaway)
82)Russian Ark (Sokurov)
83)Easy Rider (Hopper)
84)The 400 Blows (Trufault)
85)Requiem for a Dream (Aronovsky)
86)Texas Chainsaw Massacre (Hooper)
87)Beloved (J Demme)
88)X (Spike Lee)
89)Underground (Kusturica)
90)The Third Man (Carol Reed)
91)Arabian Nights (Pasolini)
92)Kwaidan (Kobayashi)
93)Sullivan’s Travels (Sturges)
94)Two Women (DeSica)
95)Clockers (Spike Lee)
96)Secrets and Lies (Leigh)
97)American Beauty (Mendes)
98)Naked Lunch (Cronnenberg)
99)Vagabond (Varda)
100)The Thin Red Line (Malick)

Jag Ar Nyfiken – or, I Am Curious (Yellow & Blue)

Why, in the midst of so much turmoil in the world, am I spending valuable time writing about film? First of all, the work up for discussion this week presents an interesting perspective on resistance and it played an important part in the battle against censorship. Secondly, in addition to informing myself on the latest travesties perpetrated by the Bush Administration and acting out against them, I try to balance the insanity of the new and improved Gulf War with satisfying experiences of artistic expression (books, music, exhibits, Hello Kitty bath mats…). These days it seems possible to become part of the madness unless we seek refuge in a nurturing oasis from time to time. With all that in mind, here is an encounter with one of the most controversial films in the history of cinema.

I Am CuriousYellow and I Am Curious – Blue, are ground breaking films that appeared at the dawn of the hippie generation (1967), which, as some of us remember, had much to do with protesting the war in Vietnam. The films were made in Sweden by director Vilgot Sjoman and represent a unique blend of political documentary, an examination of women’s rights, and a travelogue of the female psyche and its search for sexual freedom. Ideally, the two films should be viewed in succession: I Am Curious – Yellow first, and I Am Curious – Blue, second. Today, the level of spontaneity in both works continues to surprise audiences as they did when released four decades ago. For readers that are unaware of the unique history behind I Am Curious, a brief summary is on its way.

Filmstaden Studios surprised Sjoman when they agreed to grant him total artistic freedom and 100,000 meters of film for a project without a script. The director struggled to make I Am Curious and had difficulties completing his largely unprecedented vision. Nearly a year of shooting passed and as the film began to take shape, Sjoman realized that the material was developing into a two-movie sequence (he received more film before the project reached completion).

After several additional months of editing and post-production, I Am Curious Yellow was released to an eager Swedish audience. Notwithstanding the controversy that later ensued, the studio was happy to have produced two films instead of one (they would release I Am Curious – Blue later that year), and Yellow reached 1.3 million viewers on the initial run (out of a total population of 8 million Swedes).

Upon international release, I Am Curious – Yellow was immediately banned in Norway and Finland. When publisher Barney Rossett bought the rights to the film and brought it to the states, it was seized by U.S. postal officials and declared obscene. Two years later, after fighting obscenity charges in several state courts, I Am Curious won its case in the U.S. Supreme Court and helped to change the laws governing obscenity in cinema. Attorney Edward DeGrazia defended the films for Rossett’s Grove Press – long revered for their ability to defeat similar cases brought against writers like Henry Miller, Jean Genet, William S. Burroughs, and a host of (banned) Soviet writers. Eventually the films were distributed in America, breaking box office records ($20 million) and making their mark as the highest grossing European releases of the 1960’s.

Given that much of America was still coming out of a cultural slumber induced by the McCarthy era, it is not surprising that Jag Ar Nyfiken challenged the censors. The film openly portrays a woman on a mission to satisfy the urges of her irrepressible curiosity. Lena (played by Lena Nyman), explores the terrain of her body, her rights as a woman, the class system in Sweden (a nation priding itself on not having a class system) and the intertwining of church and state, while often defending herself against the reactions of others. Sexual relations are portrayed in a quirky realism that reads differently from what viewers are exposed to today and are presented with a naturalism that allows the fictional narrative to maintain a refreshing naiveté.

The film opens with a lecture by the poet Yevgeny Yevtuschenko, who later (once he finds a functional microphone) will discuss revolution and the current political climate. After interviewing his filmed image, Lena takes to the street and interviews anyone that will talk into her tape recorder, and I Am Curious - Yellow becomes a testament (read: predecessor) to the Michael Moore manifesto (roll the camera and let the people speak for themselves – or – give them enough rope and…). The film shifts its focus, and scenes of the movie-in-the-making provide structural links between the film’s diverse narrative styles. Director Sjoman speaks with Lena about her role. The film crew determines the best angle for an upcoming shot (that is never presented). Lena appears to be involved sexually with the director (off-screen). Lena practices Yoga. Lena appears to be involved sexually (off-screen) with another character in the film. Lena interviews Martin Luther King Jr. on the topic of non-violent protest (or is she interviewing a film of MLK?). In interviews, Swedes state that non-violent protest is cowardly. Viewers are left with more questions than answers. Fiction and truth are difficult to sort.

The technique of presenting behind-the-scenes-while-in-the-scene is deemed fresh when it appears in contemporary films like Soderburg’s Full Frontal or Spike Jonze’s Adaptation. But clever technique is not all that Sjoman has to offer. A disorienting quality in the shifting narrative keeps viewers on their toes while balancing disparate elements that fit together in surprising ways. One unexpected aspect of the film is that many candid responses from interviewees resound with a complacency (and an ignorance of the issues) that feels reminiscent of modern day America. In addition to this influential take on filmmaking and the information it provides us, I Am Curious is a timely counterpart to present day themes of censorship and resistance.

Finally (and unfortunately), these films are only available on DVD and laserdisc. The good folks at The Criterion Collection (a panel of film historians and master restoration crews that distribute great cinema on DVD) have released both films in one package with LOTS of bonus materials: interviews with the director, film historians, and a discussion on censorship with attorney Edward DeGrazia and publisher Barney Rossett. For innovative cinema that sways giddily between political documentary, acute realism, and fictional narrative, I Am Curious – Yellow and I Am Curious – Blue are well worth the trip to your local video store.


Oakland, CA
04/04/03

Top 10 Films of 2002

2002 was a tough year for viewers. Just months after September 11th, we found ourselves timid to go out and do much. Travel was difficult, going to a concert seemed frivolous, but staying at home and watching a movie seemed a safe bet. The burden on films to soothe our troubled sleep was a great one.

Video sales and rentals increased, and the new installment of The Lord of the Rings and other blockbusters continued to show that Americans were ready to let go of billions of annual spending for the sake of entertainment. What else could we do, short of wondering about how we as Americans may have had something to do with the attacks on the Twin Towers and the Pentagon. There were so many unresolved feelings that occurred for such a wide variety of reasons that it was possible that we were going to view movies this year with a more critical mind - if in fact we were going to the movies in order to do some thinking.

So, with no further ado, here are the films that remain fresh in my memory, these are the ones that floated to the top of the mix. This year, the items are presented in order of preference. Thanks for reading and feel free to send any comments to pgsaxo@pacbell.net

Happy viewings!

1) Sex and Lucia (Spain)

Never mind the Y Tu Mama Tambien, this was probably my favorite film of the year, and for good reasons. The director gracefully handled themes of love, loss, redemption and, oh yeah, sex, in one of the most intriguing film narratives of the year. Although some critics found the story-line confusing, on a second (welcomed!) viewing, it was much easier to see the way that the whole was conceived. Of course none of that really mattered, the fusing of film narrative, author's narrative (the film is about a writer who is writing one of the sub-plots of the film) and the elements of a magically realized myth was presented in a completely coalesced film world, where it didn't matter so much how the pieces fit, but rather that at the end of the story, (even when a new beginning is suggested) most of the themes were resolved. This type of self-referential writing, which could be compared to the process in "Adaptation" (without the use of Hollywood steroids), can seem gimmicky, but only when you're aware that it is writing. In Lucia Y Sexo, the viewer is completely engaged in the images of the story (after all, it is film) and swept up by the beauty and playfulness of the actors as they traverse erotic love, tragedy and forgiveness.

2) The Pianist (Co-Production of France - Poland - Germany - UK)

Watching Roman Polanski re-enact his childhood memories of the Nazi occupation of Warsaw through the eyes of survivor and pianist Wladislaw Szpilman was the most powerful film experience I had with a new film this year. The Pianist is a sober, emotionally gripping film of courage that plays more like De Sica's diamond In the Garden of the Finzi-Continis rather than Spielberg's well-polished cubix zirconium Schindler's List. There's no frills, no sensationalized weepy moments of grandeur (although some of the scenes will certainly drive you to tears), just simply some of the finest performances of the year throughout the large cast of players that populate Warsaw's Jewish Ghetto. The Pianist is a truly great film by a master film-maker at the top of his game. (Winner of the Palm d'Or - Cannes Film Festival)

3) The Piano Teacher (France)

Okay, so there's a piano theme going here. Some folks will find this film hard to watch, but I found this startling meditation on power one of the most moving and disturbing films of the year. The film is fueled (beneath the surface) by an over-arching metaphor: that French culture is crippled when it relies on the art-forms established by the Hapsburg Dynasty. The film deals with the stagnation and the emotional and cultural paralysis that sets in as the heroine finds herself fenced in a cultural dead-end street. Isabelle Huppert (an icon of cinematic ice-queens) plays a master pianist that teaches at a conservatory in Vienna (where not a note of French music is played). She is a woman that is eclipsed on one side by her bitter matriarch at home and the patriarchal grip of the first and second Viennese schools of composers while at work. Rather than hitting the road and building a cultural identity of her own, she acts out rebellion in the form of torturing (both physically and sexually) her students.

Anyone that has gone through institutionalized musical training will find many of the images and conflicts in this film between student and teacher familiar, but certainly pushed to the border of extremes. For those of you not familiar with "Conservatory Training" (yes, in capital letters!!!), welcome to the darker side of music education. And you thought those skinny models had it bad.

4) Secret Ballot (Iran, in Persian)

Babak Payami won the director's prize at the Venice Film Festival this year for his simple little film about a woman that must spend the day collecting ballots for an election. She is dropped off on a small island full of idealism and has a full day to collect the votes of everyone that she can find and/or encourage to take part in the election process. Her challenge, among the many she faces along the way, is that she must be accompanied by an unwilling armed soldier who has little regard for women or voting who may just lose his job for his troubles.

Although the film starts slowly (for American audiences), the young woman faces issues of brutality, gender roles, and the seemingly every question one might have about the voting process, not to mention the act of voting when someone is standing nearby with an automatic rifle in their hands. Transcending ideas from odd couple films, road movies, and politically driven films, Secret Ballot is a film that is more dream than cinema - and it leaves you with impressions that could easily spark debate rather than clearly stated "ideas" about politics, feminism and freedom. Fascism? Not in this film - look to Hollywood for films that tell you how to feel.

5) Rivers and Tides (Germany)

The art of Andy Goldsworthy must be truly remarkable to see in person. If you don't have the time to travel to one of his locations and stand knee deep in a river, or wait while snow is falling at just the right angle, you might want to get down to the theater and catch Rivers and Tides - a beautifully crafted film that reveals Goldsworthy's process. Rivers and Tides, like Goldsworthy's work, seems to be blessed with an alchemy that fused the elements - in this case, film, subject and music, into a beautifully conceived whole. Time is the essence of the artists' work, the time that it takes to conceive and create on the fly, and the time, which literally changes with the weather and effects the work, that it takes for Goldsworthy's art to recede back into nature, which is often does.

If you're unfamiliar with Goldsworthy's work, Thomas Riedelsheimer's film is a wonderful introduction - perhaps the best way to experience his process, which calls on nature and the elements and culminates in sculptures that are made entirely of whatever the artist can find in whatever immediate environment he chooses. The stillness and simplicity of the work is something we could all aspire to take into our lives, and is especially inspiring to witness in this meditative documentary.


6) Bowling for Columbine (USA)

Michael Moore delivered the one film this year that clearly set out to look at some of the problems that fuel violence in America, particularly focusing on the problem with guns and how Americans make use of them. The film, while presenting all the usual problems of a Michael Moore film (bad editing, bad structural decisions, sloppy presentation of facts and themes), allows us to take a (decidedly biased) look at ourselves when we are in the possession of weapons. Along with presenting these ideas, the true gem of the film, and certainly reason enough to go see it, was the fast-paced sequence of US imperialist actions (our easy manipulation of developing nation governments, CIA trained contras, etc.) that could be perceived as events that led to the attack on 9/11.

Whether or not you like the way Mr. Moore goes about his business is really outside the point. His ability to startle people and catch them off guard allows us to see people at their worse, or perhaps merely their least prepared. I'm reminded of a statement that Martin Luther King once made: "show me not how a man acts in time of peace and tranquility, but how he acts in times of chaos and trouble" (forgive my possible mis-quoting). This idea seems to fuel most of Moore's films. He gets people on screen, whether they're ready or not, and asks them to defend themselves against his questions...questions any American should be prepared to answer.

In the case of Charlton Heston, (whom I've heard so many viewers defend as a result of seeing this film), I have only this to say: If you're going to be the spokesperson for the NRA, you damn well better know your shit and be able to stand behind your position. Heston, clearly, was not up to the challenge - he appears the nearly drooling idiot, and as Moore questions him to support any of the gun-toting rhetoric he so boldly pronounces publicly on a regular basis, Heston falls short of his heroic stance.


7) Far from Heaven (USA)

Todd Haynes seems to have a knack for drawing air-tight environments in a film. An earlier project of his, Safe, also a collaboration with Julianne Moore, placed a sterile suburban Pandora's Box beneath your nose, where chemicals and real and imagined illnesses could simply jump off the screen and infect you with ease. In Far From Heaven, he imagines, along with Moore, a suburban environment of a different era - one that includes the ubiquitous white upper-middle class clientele, replete with bigotry, homophobia, and a good dose of initiative (read: over competetive).

Watch Julianne Moore slip and slide along with Dennis Quaid through the thickets of New England bigotry, homophobia and a generous helping of upper-middle class initiative. Todd Haynes, who seems to love directing (as he did in SAFE) Moore seems a match made in the interior of American


8) Italian for Beginners (Denmark)

The Dogma film makers have sought to make films that step outside the traditions set in stone by Hollywood and the more traditional tracts of film-making. Part of the fun of watching these films is trying to work out what the "rules" are that they must follow. One imagines the following: Do not adhere to the usual structural considerations (the M.O. must be established and the problem set in motion by the 30 minute mark - the crisis and turning point must occur at the 1 hour mark, etc etc etc...), do not use special effects; digital cameras are preferred, handheld camera work is more natural than crazy cranework - to imagine just a few. This places greater emphasis on story and acting, both of which seem to rise to the occasion in most of the Dogma films and certainly in this case.

In Italian for Beginners, the viewer is rewarded with a host of seven interesting characters who decide that taking Italian lessons would be a great use of their spare time. While Lars von Trier and many of the other Dogma film-makers have chosen to focus on the darker impulses of human nature, writer and director Lone Scherfig has given us a film that features far more tender relations. Themes of forgiveness and the complications of sexual attraction between unlikely couples replace dark family secrets and the failure to communicate, although mis-shapen information is clearly one of the comic devices that allow the characters to revolve around one another like a stream of roulette wheels - each searching for a deeper connection with their community and a sense of belonging within and with someone else.

9) Sunshine State
John Sayles is an American film-maker of the first degree. He is one of the few directors largely concerned with problems that plague our country and he examines them faithfully in every feature. Even when he leaves the country and makes a film like Men with Guns, you're aware that he's also commenting on our relationship and influence on politics in Central America.

You can think of Shakespeare's "genres" and find that Sayles films fit easily into them: The Histories (Matewan, 8 Men Out, The Return of the Secacus Seven) The Tragedies (Men with Guns) The Comedies (Brother from Another Planet) and the Character-Driven Plays (Passion Fish). Surely Sayles style, particularly in Sunshine State, is much like a play that's being filmed in real locations. Dialogue is heightened, landscapes are there only to help tell the story, and the direction of the actors is just a little bit stilted, so that you're always aware that this is a "dramatization" of an idea - something that would read overly self-conscious in the hands of a less masterful director.


10) The Hours (USA)

This film had a hard struggle to find itself on this list. There was the problem of Michael Cunningham's book, which, despite its Pulitzer Prize status, proved little more than an exercise in how to write like Virginia Woolf. The ideas in the book are interesting, but as Nabokov (a vastly superior writer) once told us: "beware of ideas".

Mrs. Dalloway, the prime victim of cannibalism in this postmodern feast, is Woolf's response to James Joyce's Ulysses - a book that takes on epic proportions in its view of a single day in the life of an ordinary woman about to throw a party.
Capturing a single day on film proves a little more difficult (not that the above mentioned novels appeared without their own set of challenges). Capturing a single day in the life of three characters living in different time periods proves very interesting (the idea that perhaps exalted Cunningham among the literary cognoscenti) and extends the idea that Woolf used to show us 1) that women are still struggling to find their way in a male-driven society and 2) That queer identity still must struggle amongst a society that largely ignores their existence (or their right to an existence).

Getting past all of these ideas and noble gestures, The Hours offers of some truly fine moments in cinema. Nicole Kidman, in order to completely submerges herself in Woolf, hides in a remote spot in the country for months, doing little but reading and writing, and emerges as the ethereal hermit, blessed by genius, as was Woolf herself. Julianne Moore, one of America's great actors of her generation moves beneath a veneer of stifling suburban life - neither able to appreciate the "gifts" of the post-war housewife, nor the stability her nearly catatonic husband (read Ozzie Nelson) offers. Meryl Streep, in one of her many brilliant roles, somehow manages to tie up all the loose ends that the screenwriter offered the actors. The male roles could have benefitted from a closer eye on the book, Ed Harris' Richard comes off overacted and hyper, John C Reilly doesn't offer Julianne Moore much of a spine to rub up against.

Re: Discoveries

In addition to the 10 films that rocked my world in 2002, I have added a section for truly amazing older films that I saw this year for the first time. Some of them are classics - some obscure, some not. Thanks to the Criterion Collection, a group/panel of film enthusiasts who package great films on DVD and go way out of their way to remaster and restore prints of great films, some unsung gems are just blocks away at your local video store.


OTHER RUSSIA:
These three films, along with the Tarkovsky films that follow them, are some of the finest films to come out of post-war Russia. Unfortunately, due to the cold war and other complications, these newly restored classics have been sorely absent from American screens since their creation. Along with others like them, these works are beginning to make it into US video stores thanks to Russico (one of the larger Russian film distributors) and represent some of the post-war milestones of Russian cinema.


The Cranes Are Flying
From the very opening of this heartbreaking film, the audience is seduced by Veronica (played by Tatiana Samoilova), Boris (Alexei Batalov), and the cinematic vision of director Mikhail Kalatozov. Witnessing Balatov's conception for image design, it's easy to see the influence Eisenstein had on the director in these opening scenes, and also where Orson Welles and Alfred Hitchcock learned a few lessons on how to frame a shot.

Astonishing film technique aside, this post-war Soviet masterpiece was filmed in 1957, just one hear after Khrushchev's declaration of the "thaw", a time when Russians began to take back control of their artistic visions.
Consequently, Cranes has a unique vision of later day 20th century art in Russia. The story focuses on individuals outside the party, unlike so many previous films made during Stalin's lifetime. Kalatozov's film focuses on a beautiful love affair and how it is destroyed by the war. At the films' end, American audiences might find some of the Russian sentiment on war in drastic conflict with what we have been fed throughout most of our lives.


Veronica and Boris are blissfully in love, until the eruption of World War II tears them apart. Boris is sent to the front lines…and then communication stops. Meanwhile, Veronica tries to ward off spiritual numbness while Boris’ draft-dodging cousin makes increasingly forceful overtures. Winner of the Palme d’Or at the 1958 Cannes Film Festival, The Cranes are Flying is a superbly crafted drama, bolstered by stunning cinematography and impassioned performances.


Ballad of a Soldier (1959)
Ballad of a Soldier could be seen as a companion piece to The Cranes Are Flying. While Cranes shows the spiritual numbness of a woman separated from her lover during wartime (and for the rest of her life), Ballad presents a character whose innocence is comparable to the young protagonist in Truffault's The 400 Blows. Directed by Grigory Chukhrai

Russian soldier Alyosha Skvortsov is granted a visit with his mother after he single-handedly fends off two enemy tanks. As he journeys home, Alyosha encounters the devastation of his war-torn country, witnesses glimmers of hope among the people, and falls in love. With its poetic visual imagery, Grigori Chukhrai's Ballad of a Soldier is an unconventional meditation on the effects of war, and a milestone in Russian cinema.

Come and See

A dramatically different film that the other two Russian films on war mentioned above, Come and See was made years later (1985) by director Elem Klimov. The film begins with two boys unearthing a german rifle from a sand dune near the Russian front and continues with one boys' journey to his home village, only to find that the Nazis have invaded and are about to destroy. Not for the faint at heart, this journal of war and its effects on the human psyche is an especially heartbreaking experience in that it is seen through the eyes of children. Also included in the DVD are Stalin-era newsreels that depict the German invasion of Belarus - true stories and events which served as historical models for the creation of this film.

Director Alexander TARKOVSKY:
Stalker

Seeing this film at the Tarkovsky Festival at the Castro was a good move. It's amazing seeing a large-scale visual feast like this in an old, enormous movie theater with lots of other viewers. Without a doubt, this was the highpoint of my film viewing experience in the past year, and probably in the past few years. Viewing Stalker on the big screen is like no other film experience.

What is decidedly different about Tarkovsky's films, (especially this one), is that if you're prepared to sit and be still and hang out with some slow plot developments, you're likely to come away from the theater feeling as if you've witnessed one of those religious experiences that have graced so many sages. It's possible that Tarkovsky doesn't make films at all, he makes experiences for people to work through. And yes, the films take work, there's the act of paying attention for over three hours, which, in this case, is relatively easy to do when the visual material is so rich and spiritually charged. What you don't get are easy answers, no bombs exploding, no cheap sex, and no clever dialogue to "capsulate" or "drive the plot". If you suddenly feel as though I'm speaking another language, you can stop here. If not, consider a film that can create a great deal of tension simply by showing a man and a woman sleeping in the dark. In the future, when I see David Lynch point a camera down a dark hallway and I suddenly feel terrified, I will think Tarkovsky and of the ways that he can frighten you by merely pointing a camera at a field, a tree, an abandoned building (not to mention a frozen sewer).


Solaris

Ground control has been receiving strange transmissions from the three remaining residents of the Solaris space station. When cosmonaut and psychologist Kris Kelvin is sent to investigate, he experiences the strange phenomena that afflict the Solaris crew, sending him on a voyage into the darkest recesses of his own consciousness. In Solaris, legendary Russian filmmaker Andrei Tarkovsky creates a brilliantly original science fiction epic that challenges our preconceived notions of love, truth, and humanity itself.
(Criterion Collection synopsis)

Andrei Rublev

Widely recognized as a masterpiece, Andrei Tarkovsky's 205-minute medieval epic, based on the life of the Russian monk and icon painter, was not seen as the director intended it until its re-release over twenty years after its completion. The film was not screened publicly in its own country (and then only in an abridged form) until 1972, three years after winning the International Critics Prize at the Cannes Film Festival. Calling the film frightening, obscure, and unhistorical, Soviet authorities edited the picture on several occasions, removing as much as an entire hour from the original. Today, viewers can watch the complete version of a journey that placed the artist at the forefront of the search for meaning in the midst of the Tatar invasion and the loss and retreival of faith.

Other Re:Discoveries

Travels of Sullivan
Preston Sturges' bright and fast paced comedy is a road picture rife with satire that stars Veronica Lake and Joel McCrae.

Pygmalion
The original film effort of GB Shaw's play, years before Rex Harrison and Audrey Hepburn decided to sing their way through this commentary on class and human destiny. Starring Trevor Howard and (the real delight) Wendy Hiller.

Movies that I really wanted to see but couldn't catch:
(i.e. - films that would probably have made this list if I would have caught them!)
Daughter from DanangIn Praise of Love
The Fast Runner


Top Films of 2003

After having my psyche pulverized by all the hoopla surrounding the war in Iraq, I tended to hunger for more silence and space in films this year. In the face of being pummeled with misinformation, whether it was Colin Powell lying to the U.N. on the undeniable evidence of weapons of mass-destruction in Iraq, GW Bush lying about how we were liberating the citizens of Iraq, or the myriad of lies that kept most of us from clarifying the connections between Enron, Arnold Schwartzenegger, the natural gas crisis in California, and the recall of former Governor Grey Davis, I found myself looking for movies that beckoned us to peer beneath the surface of things.

My expectations of film have also been transformed over the past two years by repeated viewings of the works of Andrei Tarkovsky and Yasujiro Ozu. These two filmmakers are well known for taking their time and focusing in on the subtleties often overlooked by many of their contemporaries. I wrote about some great films by Tarkovsky last year in my Re:Discoveries section (Stalker being my absolute favorite), and this year that section will present a few of the many gems shown at the recent Ozu Retrospective (honoring the 100th anniversary of the director’s birth) at the Castro Theater and the Pacific Film Archive in November and December 2003.

1) Russian Ark (Alexander Sokurov – Russia)
The story behind the making of Russian Ark is a fascinating one, and those viewing this monumental achievement on DVD will be able to watch how the director and his crew, one cameraman equipped with an specially crafted steady-cam, 850 actors, and over 2,000 extras achieved the remarkable task of loading in, rehearsing and shooting their film in the Hermitage in St. Petersburg in a mere 36 hours. As Sokurov states in the film’s featurette: “despite the technical achievement, if my film does not succeed on artistic merits, then it did not succeed at all”. Sokurov has little to worry about. The film is a wonder on so many accounts – from its conception and the imaginative way it allows history to come alive within the walls of a museum, to the astounding real-time execution on the part of the actors and crew – that in 100 years time this film will have been as influential in this century as Sergei Eisenstein’s early works were to the 20th century.

Bonus Track: For a more complete description, refer to the bottom of this document for the text of an article that I wrote on Russian Ark in March 2003)

2) Tamala 2010 (t.o.L. – Japan; Japanese release: 2002, limited US release: 2003)
What if your cat could boast that she was a secret agent, tattoo fetishist, astronaut, performance artist, thrill junky, chain smoker, repeatedly resurrected savior, capitalist icon, shoplifter, and sex-starved nymphomaniac with a potty mouth? What would happen if you woke up in a world where cats and dogs ruled society, living out an uneasy S&M relationship? The outcome could be that you are living in the film Tamala 2010 – which arrives with a fresh look at religious and philosophical themes and a probing of the capitalist ideal – all wonderfully animated in black and white Tex Avery meets Hello Kitty images.
Tamala 2010 takes an enormous amount of imagination to watch, and that alone makes this movie a potent treat. The cinematic rules of structure have been murdered – themes are jangled in a precious surrealism that is uniquely and unmistakably Japanese. And yet the story works on a level of logic that is epic (read: archetypal) and familiar (read: comic books), as it deftly accesses narratives found in the Hindu, Buddhist and Christian scriptures only to regurgitate them in images you’ll want to have stamped on beach towels and key chains.

3) The Revolution Will Not Be Televised (Ireland – Kim Bartley & Donnacha O’Brian)
This rare jewel celebrates what happens when a documentary crew lands in the right place at the right time – in this case, during the military coup on Hugo Chavez and his supporters in 2001, which failed within 48 hours. The filmmakers were lucky to have access to video footage from inside the coup, and the movie’s perspective is greatly broadened by presenting images from both sides of the standoff. Contrasting these events with Colin Powell’s press statements is a study in spin-politics and cover-up maneuvers that America has developed to great extents.

There’s Chavez, openly criticizing the Bush rhetoric on the subject of Iraq – there’s the CIA plane landing on Venezuelan tarmac – here’s the military, making the move to overthrow Chavez – there’s Powell on TV, calling Chavez unstable, stating US support of said military – here’s the incredible support of the people of Venezuela, both from inside Chavez’ camp and outside – there’s the media manipulation on Venezuelan TV, wrongly accusing Chavez supporters of open-firing on innocent civilians – here’s Chavez surprising the world with support of the people and the truth of the military involvement in the massacre mentioned above – here’s Chavez taking back the palace – there’s Colin Powell, stating that the US has supported Chavez all along….

The Revolution Will Not Be Televised is genuinely inspiring in times when US foreign and domestic politics are anything but, an achievement not likely to be duplicated again too soon. Get out and see it if you can – THE REVOLUTION WILL NOT BE TELEVISED!

4) Ten (Abbas Kiarostami – Iran/France; International release 2002, US Theatrical Release 2003)
Abbas Kiarostami’s (Taste of Cherry, The White Balloon) newest film places the camera on the dash of a car to document 10 conversations between the driver (a recent divorcee) and her sister, a friend, a prostitute, an elderly fundamentalist and on more than one occasion, her son. The ten short episodes appear to take place over the course of a few days in the city of Tehran.

It’s unusual to watch a film that uses the same two camera angles throughout, but it brings the faces of the subjects up close where they perform miraculously, revealing a natural form of characterization that is unique among the usual efforts of neo-realism. Kiarostami’s choice to “remove himself as much as possible from the direction” allows the subjective material to come to the forefront. The provocative conversations, like the hands of the clock, revolve around the axle of feminism and the role of women in contemporary Iranian society. The driver and her passengers wrestle with issues of self-image, dependency and independence, separation, spiritual devotion, and ultimately liberation in this urgent rumination on identity. Ten is a memorable film with a unique take on characterization and directing – which is to have almost no direction at all.
5) Spellbound (Jeffrey Blitz – U.S.)
Shot before and during the U.S. Spelling Bee Competition in Washington D.C. in 2000, Spellbound examines Americana through the eyes of 8 young contestants as they prepare to do battle. The film allows viewers the rare opportunity to see how different contestants polish their superhuman skills in phonemic awareness and visual memory for words while developing a keen sense of the culture that these youngsters inhabit.

The first half of the film presents the 8 central contestants preparing in their home environment and the second half of the film shows them in action – a non-stop sequence that has more genuine humor and suspense than the majority of the entries in this year’s comedy and thriller categories. A great film for kids and adults alike, Spellbound is a fine blend of social study and entertainment.

6) Spider (David Cronenberg – Canada/U.S.)
David Cronenberg’s newest effort resists some of the creepiness associated with his special- effect driven work of the past few decades to create a pared-down, character-driven story that allows Ralph Fiennes to do some of his best work, despite the fact that much of his dialogue is little more than a series of murmurs and incomprehensible utterances. Fiennes plays a Mr. Clegg, who has been released from an asylum and comes to a boarding house designed to integrate psychiatric patients back into society. As time passes and his environment triggers childhood memories, Clegg’s present merges with past, and different versions of his history play out in the physical space like double exposures of reality.

With its near-predictable ending aside, Spider does a great job of disorienting the audience as it burrows within the psyche of its subject. Mr. Clegg’s nickname, given to him by his mother, is both the film’s title and structure (web). Bradley Hall plays Mr. Clegg as a young man and gives a natural performance that exists comfortably in Cronenberg’s seamless interiors and landscapes.

Last but far from least is a fantastic performance by Miranda Richardson, whose work here is the finest effort by any actor I saw this year. Ms. Richardson divvies up ample doses of femme fatale among multiple characters to further realize the multi-dimensional aspect of Spider’s interior web. Howard Shore continues to his best work with Cronenberg, unearthing the music of the film rather than writing music to fill out the movie.

Based on the novel by Patrick McGrath who also penned Spider’s remarkable script.
(Official Selection Nomination – Cannes Film Festival)

7) In The Cut (Jane Campion – U.S.)
I never thought I would be writing about a film that featured Meg Ryan, but Jane Campion has done the unthinkable and given us a movie where we can at last fully respect the sugarcoated cover girl. Ryan delicately inhabits the soul of a writing professor at a downtown NY campus who witnesses the preliminaries of a murder by a man she may or may not have met before. An investigation takes place and Ms. Ryan and Mark Ruffalo (one of the two investigating officers) fall deep into some of the most successfully executed erotic sequences since Last Tango in Paris.

Jane Campion’s newest film achieves remarkable subtlety and suspense thanks to her unusually steady hand and pacing. The film moves like an arrested belly dance around a series of violent acts – but in places where similar efforts like Seven pound the viewer into submission with extreme gore drafted from tabloid sensationalism, In the Cut manages to mysteriously draw viewers into a more vulnerable space that brings on the tension in a way that few films have managed. Don’t resist this film because you’re not a Meg Ryan fan – In the Cut will alter whatever you thought you knew about her skills as an actor.

8) Elephant (Gus Van Sant – U.S.)
Gus Van Sant’s latest effort frees itself from traditional film technique in order to allow the camera and its many subjects room to create the kind of environment that could produce a Columbine-style massacre of innocents. Apart from the director’s familiar gazes into cloud-ridden skies, Van Sant mostly allows Elephant to pace the grounds of a high school like a truant student in search of a friend with whom to converse the travesties of isolation, anorexia, concert tickets, who is dating whom, and the proverbial “how’s it goin”, leaving any responsibility of summing up or rationalizing the film’s tragic events on the part of the viewer.

Elephant precisely captures a phenomenon that comes out of the works of Tarkovsky (and others) – the artistic decision to leave enough space in the film for the viewer to exist within the movie. In many films today the overzealous efforts of special effects, actors with enormous egos and directors with no patience for patience tend to populate contemporary cinema with an anxious roar that leaves viewers deafened by the din. In this respect American cinema accurately reflects a culture that seems to thrive on anxiety, or what could be called justified rage – the kind of inner angst that drives children to use automatic weapons on unsuspecting peers.

9) Carnage (Delphine Gleize – France/Spain)
First-time director Delphine Gleize turns in an impressive effort that flirts with the absurd in a way that is reminiscent of the films of Luis Bunel and Pedro Almaldovar in this merry-go-round of a movie that revolves around the unfortunate outcome of a bullfight. Structurally similar to works like Amores Perros, 21 Grams and the Wandering Rocks episode of James Joyce’s Ulysses, Carnage balances a variety of injuries and healings with a great deal more grace than the aforementioned cinematic works by director Alejandro Inaritu.

While some critics described the story as unclear and messy, I found the understated narrative strands and the suggestive nature of the relations between the parts of the kaleidoscope refreshing. The film’s sublime epiphanies and tender relations between the characters seemed to stay slow burning in memory throughout the following week – an all too rare event.

10) Once Upon a Time in Mexico (Robert Rodriquez – U.S.)
Clearly derivative but wildly entertaining, this epic plot-octopus calls on the ghosts of Sergio Leone and Sam Pekinpah to inform director/producer/composer Robert Rodriguez’ quest for the perfect blend of humor, shoot-‘em-up sequences, boomerang plot twists and stylistic beauty. The outcome is a Machiavellian Molotov cocktail of intrigue and action, driven by the kind of quirky performance we have come to expect from Johnny Depp and a sultry dreamscape of Mexican folklore delivered playfully by the gorgeous duo of Antonio Banderas and Selma Hayek. Better than dinner and a dozen Margaritas at Mom is Cooking, (and certainly better for your health), Once Upon a Time in Mexico is all you need to start a riot in your very own home.

Hits and Fizzles in 2003
What started out as a slow year for movies ended up producing a crop that made it tough to settle on this year’s list of treasures. Secretary delivered an original spin on the comedic aspect of sexual politics and allowed us to see just how good Maggie Gyllenhaal could be at being bad; Pretty Dirty Things continued to prove what a great director Stephen Frears is; and the erotic poetry of Girl with the Pearl Earring came in strong at the end of the year with Scarlett Johansen and Colin Firth peering deep into the feel and rhythms of 17th century Flemish painting.

2003 also gave witness to the completion of two trilogies that were years in the making. The Matrix series seemed to crumble beneath the weight of its own overly manufactured and mass-produced cyber-girth. What started out as a great opening effort eventually failed as the Wachowski brothers opted to work in capacious formats that brought on the inevitable Star Wars style battle sequences, stripping away all the visceral qualities of what made the action sequences in the opening work so potent and entertaining.

On the other hand, the Lord of the Rings trilogy stayed consistently grounded in the world of medieval folklore, imaginatively presenting a rich fantasy world that didn’t allow the special in special effects to get in the way. The performances throughout the large cast were on equally secure footing, and the trilogy offered the characters an epic arc to work through that was ultimately satisfying for an all-ages crowd.

Kill Bill Volume I opened this year after a long process of production and a considerable pause for Uma Thurman to return from the throes of motherhood. When Quentin Tarantino presented the four-hour film to Miramax, the studio’s response was to cut it down to less than 3 hours or release his picture in two parts. Tarantino wisely chose the latter. Since the film was conceived as a whole and really should have been released as such, I have chosen to wait until I have seen the complete work before commenting on it.

As always, there were a few efforts that received critical acclaim and street chatter that hardly deserved the attention. Mystic River failed on many accounts: its heavy-handed direction (how it compares with Eastwood’s The Unforgiven is beyond me), its over-wrought acting (exception: Kevin Bacon), its sophomoric metaphors (we get it, our post 9/11 penchant for revenge is BAD) and its borrowed themes (Act 1 courtesy of Bostonian Catholic pedophilia, Act 2 courtesy of Titus Andronicus, Act 3 courtesy of nearly any Scorsese film, and Act 4 courtesy of Lady Macbeth) were ultimately disappointing. Lost in Translation showed that Sofia Coppola was capable of producing a nice atmosphere for Bill Murray and Scarlett Johansen to move around in, but her superficial view of Japanese culture was offensive. Bad Santa made me laugh out-loud several times, but its concept read like a bottom-drawer effort by John Waters, hardly on par with Zwigoff’s unforgettable Crumb or his unique vision of L.A.-style teen angst in Ghost World. Finally, Winged Migration had a fantastic visual style & camera technique and viewers will find it hard to forget some of the wonderful birds and their habitats that were explored, but the musical score and invasive voice-over plunged it to a level that fits in a category with Wild Kingdom re-runs.

Re:Discoveries

Sergio LEONE - Once Upon a Time in the West
I’ve been a fan of Leone’s infamous spaghetti-westerns since puberty. Why I have waited all this time to see Once Upon a Time in the West is way beyond me. I’m sure most of you have long celebrated its awesome (and never successfully imitated) opening title sequence; its ability to bring a complex portrait of a woman into the western genre; its unique criticism of the origins of corporate America and the dangers that accompany it; and its marvelous and multi-layered yarn all wrapped up in that unmistakable style that is uniquely Sergio Leone.

Rainer Werner FASSBINDER:
Out of all the films of Fassbinder’s that I have seen over the years, Ali: Fear Eats the Soul stands out as a great achievement in taboo smashing. Crossing lines of age, race, and cultural gaps the size of a southern-California freeway, two unlikely people form a romantic relationship that has comic and near-tragic (not melodramatic) results.

Masahiro SHINODA:
Pale Flower (1963) is a Tokyo gangster film that successfully uses the lack of action as an element of suspense. Characters chase each other around the metaphorical habit-trails of organized crime in the seedier side of Tokyo nightlife. Classic black and white photography frames a mysterious narrative about a hit man that falls in love with a wildly independent gambler in sharp and unforgettable images. Both Shinoda films have brilliant soundtracks by Toru Takemitsu that merge with the film in a dreamlike manner.

Double Suicide (1965) is diametrically opposed in terms of style to Pale Flower, where the latter’s post-noir pulp style surrenders to Noh Theater minimalism and costumes to better expose the passions between three ill-fated lovers.

Counting the Spokes of Abbas Kiarostami's Ten

I recently met with Tim Perkis at the Shattuck Cinemas to see Ten, a new film by Iranian filmmaker Abbas Kiarostami (Director of Cannes Winner Taste of Cherry). The entire film takes place in a car with the camera mounted on the dash in order to document 10 conversations between the driver (a recent divorcee) and: her sister, a friend, a prostitute, an elder fundamentalist, and on a few occasions her son, all presented in 10 chronological episodes. The film appears to take place over the course of a few days.

While the camera captures the faces of the characters in an uncanny way that defies past efforts of realism, the conversations, like the hands of the clock, revolve around the subjective axle of feminism. The driver provokes her passengers to wrestle with issues of self-image, dependency, separation, spiritual devotion, and ultimately, liberation. The final episode approaches redemption in a touching moment when the driver's sister reveals a way that she has freed herself from her male counterpart.

The conversations with her son are perhaps the most revealing of the subject, while he struggles with his parent’s separation and seems to unanimously blame her for their troubles.

This film will more than likely make it to the 2003 top 10 list. It's the first film this year (apart from the Castro Theater’s presentation of Le Cercle Rouge, which is not a new release) that has made me even consider that a top 10 list could emerge from what has been a fairly bleak year for movies.


Oakland, CA
05/19/03

Wednesday, July 07, 2004

The Hermitage Comes Alive in Alexander Sokurov's Russian Ark

Introduction

James Joyce completed his greatest and most misunderstood work, Finnegans Wake (abbreviated below as FW), in 1939. After 19 years of writing the 20th century's most enigmatic masterpiece of linguistics, Joyce would claim that he had written a history of all humanity disguised as a dream. In his latest film, Alexander Sokurov managed the Russian equivalent of Joyce's hermetic novel in a movie (albeit in highly abbreviated form) that defies historical apathy while creating one of the more realistic dream-sequences ever expressed in film. Upon closer inspection, the two works have a lot in common. Russian Ark is a marvel in many respects: it is hard to imagine how this meditation on history and cultural identity could be made in one continuous 96-minute take, as combined feats of choreography, staging and pacing reveal a tour-de-force of film-making and artistic vision. It is especially impressive that the effort took eight months to conceive, construct and rehearse (with over 850 actors) and one day to shoot (Ark was filmed on December 23rd, 2001).

When the preview and first descriptions of Russian Ark came on the scene early this year, we learned that the film’s action took place within the Hermitage and was shot in "one breath" (to quote Sokurov). Curiosity piqued immediately. This was a film that would deliver an unusual slant on editing; an exploration of one of the greatest art collections in the world (over 3.5 million pieces); a core of actors pooled from the Marinsky Theater (who mounted an exuberant and enormously satisfying production of Waiting for Godot that I caught during my stay in Saint Petersburg); and finally, a film that brought Russian history and this fantastic museum to life. For a wannabe Russofile, it would not get any better any time soon.

Historical Backdrop

Since the film veers in and out of timelines that range throughout the past 400 years of Russian history and rarely stays in one era for more than a few moments at a time, it was possible to let the film wash over you and allow yourself to be swept away by the magnificence of the Ark’s film technique while missing the historical relevance of the work. Several friends told me that they desired a greater knowledge of Russian culture to fill in the film’s historical subtext. With that in mind, perhaps the first thing to discuss is how the Hermitage came into existence. The following is a highly condensed form of that story.

Tsar Peter (the Great) conquered the Swedes that occupied this northwestern region at the turn of the 18th century. This was a strategic battle for the Russians, for Petersburg sits at the mouth of the Neva River where it runs into the Gulf of Finland - a window to the North Sea, the Atlantic, and a piece of land essential for controlling trade routes to the west. He then initiated work on draining the swamp where the city of Saint Petersburg now stands.

At the time of Peter’s death, he and Catherine II had successfully engaged Venetian architects to design the look of the city and its many canals. She also contracted them to build a home for her art collection - her Hermitage - that would continue to increase throughout her lifetime and beyond. The combined efforts of Peter and Catherine the Great were to bring the west to Russia, and the foundation of this wondrous city is the crown jewel of that great achievement.

The Hermitage is also referred to as the Winter Palace, and there are a few wings of this enormous structure that were designed as living quarters for the Russian aristocracy. Catherine II lived there, as did some of her successors, many of whom appear in the film. Historically, Catherine the Great is known as being largely responsible for opening the doorway to the west; partially due to the European architecture she imported to the city and partially due to the fact that she filled her Hermitage with European art (along with the art of many cultures) while encouraging a variety of political relationships with the west.

What’s in the Ark?

The negotiation between Russian and European culture is one of the central themes of Russian Ark. The narrative that drives the film, like the narrator(s) of FW, delivers a story of the ages without ever disclosing an identity. In both cases, it is the voice of contemporary humanity looking back through history in order to gain a footing on the present state of society. Today, as Russians face a tremendous moral crisis as a result of post Glasnost politics, Russian Ark serves as a mirror to the past. For Joyce, the years that followed WW I and led to the Nazi occupation of Paris, represented a period riddled with moral questions posed by the political and social changes of the Modern Era, and those issues populate the archetypal dreamscapes of FW.

It is in fact a narrative voice that begins the journey of this Russian Ark in absolute darkness (FW is often referred to as Joyce's "Book of the Dark"). Several questions float in a quiet confusion before a light begins to break upon the screen. As images sharpen, the narrator is walking toward the entrance of a building, following a party that has just descended from a fine carriage, dressed in early-18th century costumes. He discovers that they are entering the Hermitage and shortly thereafter he meets a gentleman who goes by the name "The Marquise" – a man temporarily dumbfounded by their location and one who seems equally surprised to find himself in the narrator's dream and that he can suddenly speak Russian.

The two continue together to pass through over 35 rooms while pausing to comment on Rembrandt, Italian baroque sculpture, Pushkin, the allure of women, music, theater, the military, religion, and the ever appearing (and disappearing) icons and figures of Russian history. These debates transpire as the dialogue weaves dialectic on the dependence of Europe in Russian art.

Time and history do not flow in a strict chronology in Sokurov’s dreamtime, which hinders any kind of rational assessment Russia’s cultural evolution. In one hall, Russian soldiers march past in WW II uniforms while the next room hosts an apology to Czar Nicolas I from the nephew of a sultan in Iran. A play is rehearsing on the main stage while Catherine II runs to the WC, and on her search for the elusive toilet she leads viewers to a hallway where university students in jeans and parkas stare at paintings by Peter Paul Rubens. The Romanovs, just days before the October Revolution, which took their lives and the lives of their children, sit impatiently at the dinner table waiting for Anastasia to return from dancing in the hallways with her friends. Through the benefit of dream logic, the audience travels through a museum that has come to life, and the different wings that represent different eras of time appear randomly, often taking the viewer by surprise.

During the closing scenes of the film, the narrator and the Marquise lead the audience to a large ballroom, teeming with late 19th century aristocracy – a time that now exists in a sentimental wonderland that a bygone generation once enjoyed before the October Revolution. The orchestra plays a mazurka for men and women who dance in stunning period costumes while the camera miraculously weaves a finely choreographed pathway through the grand ballroom. The music ends, the audience applauds and praises the conductor and the musicians and there seems to be an overwhelming sense of appreciation for the arts pouring out from the crowd and off the screen. The crowd makes their way out, and the Marquise, dressed in strange attire (many around him complain of the scent of formaldehyde in his presence), decides that he will remain, allowing the narrator to move freely into the future - a future that promenades with what seems like a great assembly of ghosts, all moving toward an exit that looks out upon the Neva River, where fog rises lazily into subtle rays of morning sunlight. Like the ending of FW, the reader/viewer is following a river that flows onward and is about to lose itself to a larger body of water (the Neva flows into the gulf of Finland, the Liffey flows into Dublin bay in FW) representing rebirth, the future, and the collective unconscious of both Sokurov's Russia and Joyce's Ireland.

Conclusion

Whether you know anything about Russian history or not, Russian Ark may seduce you to want to learn more. If we could learn history while walking through museums that come to life as the Hermitage does in this intriguing feature, it is possible that history would hold a place of awe for more of us. In this way, Russian Ark succeeds where lecture and mere readings are left lacking in imagination and immediacy. For the sheer spectacle of one of the world’s great collections of art and the history of a consistently misunderstood culture, this masterpiece of historical fiction is not to be missed.



Oakland, CA
March 2003

Spider, a Film by David Cronenberg

Spider is a great film by a master filmmaker and this one lives up to any of his other films, displaying an uncanny ability to create an airtight world that is totally consistent and unto itself. Spider hangs out in an emotional nether-land that is similar to Cronenberg's earlier films Naked Lunch and Dead Ringers, but different in narrative shape and without the sensational or shocking images that those other films celebrated.

One of the great things about Spider is the astonishing performances by Ralph Fiennes and especially Miranda Richardson, who portrays three strikingly different characters. I have greatly admired her work since I first saw her in Dance with a Stranger, and I can't think of an actress that could have better handled the tasks she was up against in this effort.

The other actors are all equally valuable in their supporting roles and even Gabriel Byrne, who seems to over-act in most of his performances stays in the web that Cronenberg spins and plays his cards close to the chest. The young lad who plays Fiennes' character as a boy (Bradley Hall) is also well-cast and does a great job of matching the unusual mood of the film.

Unfortunately, the story isn't the best part about the release, and the finale is something that I predicted from the over-informative previews (when are the studios going to figure out that we don't need to know everything about a movie in order to get excited about seeing it?). If you haven't seen the previews, go see the movie before they give it all away!

Yes, as you may have already read, the film is slow, but boring it is not. American audiences that are used to Hollywood pap will perhaps be a bit dazed by it all (the plot line may add to that confusion), but I believe that this particular effort is the sign of Cronenberg's increasing maturity as a director. It took great courage to surrender to the pace that this film needed. After all, the world of the movie is the world of a nearly catatonic schizophrenic...to pace it any faster would have felt forced and out of place. You can make movies that are going to wow audiences or you can make works of art. Fortunately, Cronenberg’s late works continues to reside in the world of the latter.

03/09/03

What Does it Take To Make a Best-Selling Documentary? - Scrutinzing Michael Moore's Farhenheit 9/11

It’s been a while since I’ve had time to sit down and write about film. Sadly, it seems that 2004 has not been a great year for movies unless you have access to some the new Criterion releases on DVD – (“forgotten” classics by Visconti, Kurosawa, Ozu, Bergman, and Pasolini, among others); also, in the past year a German distributor has mounted the task of presenting the complete works of Rainer Werner Fassbinder on home video and DVD (Criterion recently released his award-winning BRD Trilogy). If you’re a film lover and you don’t like what’s in the theaters these days, there are options…

All of that aside, Fahrenheit 9/11 was released last week to American audiences despite considerable efforts to keep it out of theaters. The film attempts to connect the dots between the 2000 Florida presidential election debacle, the devastating events in New York and the Pentagon on September 11th, the Bush Administration and its ministry of fear, war profiteering, military recruitment and their prime target audience, innumerable lies about weapons of mass destruction, innumerable military follies in Iraq (needless brutality of Iraqi civilians that U.S. forces are liberating, needless destruction of Iraqi homes and families, the controversial use of torture on captives, etc.), the Bush Family (Poppa Bush in particular), the Osama Bin-Laden family, the ever increasing costs at the gas pump and finally, the mystery that most of us are dying to solve: is George W. Bush really as stupid as he looks? Is he a puppet manipulated by men and women that are cleverer than he is (conceivably everyone else in the country including my cat George)?

It would be daunting for anyone to take on such a monumental task, for the above mentioned themes amount to material for several films, not one. But Michael Moore seems to enjoy presenting himself with impossible feats, and he usually does a decent job of dealing with difficult subject matters despite his messy narratives and ill-supported claims. I often think of him (as many do) as a left-wing Rush Limbaugh – doling out a social critique that reads more Op/Ed than documentary – through the proliferation of film footage can border on the miraculous – his work seems to raise the inevitable question: how the hell did he get that on film?

It is notable that Moore’s newest effort had higher box-office receipts on its opening weekend than any other documentary – ever. Fahrenheit 9/11 brought in $21.8M in its first few days on the screen – not bad for a film that Disney Pictures decided it could not release due to unpopular themes. It was said that Miramax had picked up the film, but Miramax’s name does not appear in the title sequence (although Bob and Harvey Weinstein’s names do appear – aren’t they the heads of Miramax? – what happened? – did stockholders express overwhelming resistance?). One imagines that the rest of Hollywood will soon take up the charge of light brigade and start producing politically penetrating and controversial documentaries – given (of course) they get the right responses from test audiences and focus groups.

For a documentary to be this popular, it’s worth asking what exactly has earned the film all the attention. Are Americans really fed up with George W. Bush, or do they just want to see what all the hoopla is about? Was it the controversial nature of the film, the film’s celebrated struggle to reach distributors; or, did George W Bush’s (and others) unsavory comments about Michael Moore create a renewed (and increased) interest in his work? Are there really so many people who identify with Moore’s rhetoric? If so, why have they chosen to be silent these past few years? The answers to these questions are difficult to pinpoint; perhaps all of these reasons (and more) are part of why it is still difficult to see the film without buying tickets in advance.

As usual, Michael Moore knows that his audience is rife with prime-time expectations and he fails to disappoint their challenged expectations. His Comedia del Arte routine plays out without a great concern for presenting facts that could otherwise strengthen the mass of exposition that litters his film. This is often the weak link in Moore’s work. It disappoints because documentation (on the Florida election, for example) does exist. If writer Greg Pallast can get his hands on the document that Jeb Bush issued in Florida that profiled voters who would not be allowed access to the polls, surely our Canadian watchdog would have had access to Pallast’s work, or the document itself – apparently not. Moore also overlooks the fact that the White House spent $20M on an advertising campaign to get America “behind the war effort” – an important missing link in his rhetoric because he tries to examine the Bush Administration’s penchant for instilling fear among the populace. Rather, he chooses to sweep over the rug with images and voice-over narrative to tell the story in a way that more often that not feels like handholding.

There is also the difficult to dismiss evidence (that Moore chose to ignore) assembled by the MoveOn.org folks in the documentary Uncensored – a film that used insiders from the CIA and the White House to present the truth behind the lies that Colin Powell used in his presentation to the U.N. on weapons of mass destruction. Perhaps Moore didn’t want to tread on familiar ground (but seriously, compare the number of viewers of Uncensored with Fahrenheit 9/11 – whoops! Sorry, there is no comparison – Uncensored was distributed to those who made a contribution to the making of the film and it has not yet found its way to theaters).

It is hard, however, to criticize him for making Fahrenheit at a time when so many people seem out of the loop on the motivations behind the invasion of Iraq and indeed, behind the “work” in Florida that allowed Bush to take office. And yet it is important not to just let the film just wash over you and walk out afterward feeling like you really are informed.

On the other hand, it’s impressive that he has crystallized the enormous socio-political dung-heap that the Bush Administration has produced, and has put it out there where audiences can get to it in an easy to digest format. Most folks resist working too hard to get the facts unless their son or daughter is killed in a senseless war, conceivably designed for no other reason than to get corporations salivating over the potential for huge profits in this oil-rich region. This is a point that doesn’t go unnoticed (or perhaps unexploited) in Moore’s recent offering.

Unfortunately, what often lies behind Moore's film is a deft ability to present social and political satire that's so well packaged, so finely integrated into the fabric of the film, that it can go unnoticed, and Farhenheit 9/11 is packed with such moments. The title sequence alone, with the lens focused on GW Bush while he waits to announce that the US is about to strike the people of Iraq is a memorable example.

If nothing else, the film stands as an effort to wake America up – and it is possible that the best way of waking people up is to set an alarm – and surely Michael Moore’s film has all the alarming points of light associated with a wake-up call. It is clear that many Americans have been sleeping on the issues, perhaps fearful of stirring a fuss that would secure a reservation at a newfound resort in Guantanamo Bay. Perhaps we are the victims of a barrage of media images and sound-bytes that have neglected (or have blocked) a clearer presentation of the facts. While watching the film, it seems impossible that all the facts will ever be collected and digested without a certain amount of destructive bias.

Like Nixon’s Watergate scandal and countless other political mishaps, the facts are often hard to find, and it seems that Americans may never know the truth behind the issues. If the American public and the people of Iraq are lucky, Fahrenheit 9/11 may just live up to Michael Moore’s goal: to de-throne Child Bush and his war-mongering, capital-hungry cabinet members. Of course it remains to be seen whether or not Bush’s imagined successor will be able to withdraw US forces in Iraq as quickly as some would like to believe.

Finally, if the film were to have such an impact on the psyche of the American body politic (swaying an election as it were), it merely proves the fickle nature of that delicate and temporary condition: popular opinion in America and the public’s faith in media images to tell them how and what to think.