DOCUMENTARIES

I do love documentaries, and will watch just about anything that grabs my attention, from history to biography to any of the arts. Over the weekend I had the opportunity to watch two new examples, and they were instructive and jarring, beautiful and troubling.

Critic Roger Ebert, lover of movies and irascible celebrity film reviewer alongside Gene Siskel for so many years, is the focus of Life Itself (2014), a remarkably well done documentary that covered both his life and the fight against cancer, that left his face disfigured but didn't halt his drive or even production until the very last day of his life. I will admit that it was hard viewing the flapping maw that was once his chin (as well as the episodes of suction, but is is good that the reality of the battle be seen. I was amazed by the power and love of his wife Chaz, who he married at age 50. The documentary seemed very honest, and didn't seem to sugar coat his life, pointing out that he could be a curmudgeon and, well, prick, sometimes. But it showed that he was much more than what we often saw on the small screen, diverse in his talents, caring in his relations with his adopted family, and perhaps even affectionate for his sparring partner (who died in 1999). Sometimes the adjectives of "brave" and such applied to a person battling for their life can be overdone, but he seemed to keep good humor and willpower even as he struggled with pain and physical deterioration. The film certainly changed the way I thought of the man, and much for the better.

Through a Lens Darkly: Black Photographers and the Emergence of a People (2014) was a beautifully presented and informative exploration of historical and contemporary African American photographers, from the early days of the media, through the struggles of Reconstruction and Civil Rights, and up to modern support and expansion of black photographic art. The film is full of absolutely stunning pieces, many of which I had seen before, although there was quite a bit new to me. I have for a long time been somewhat familiar with a few black photographers, especially Richard Samuel Roberts, whose beautiful work is covered in A True Likeness (both the book and an ETV documentary). The documentary mixes a little of the producer's family's amateur work with the photography by and of important black leaders and individuals. Simply amazing work that I hope spurs viewers to look up and view and even visit exhibitions of the work of former and current photographers. It will empower, enlighten, and engage; I think it would be a good film to show high school and college students.

PANAHI

To be an artist in Iran---whether it be music, film, dance, writing, or just about any such endeavor---and to truly express one's views on society or step outside the rigid parameters set by the cleric-run government is to creatively maneuver around the oppressive censorship binding freedom of expression and to be then willing to pay a mighty high price for the attempt and the affront to those in power. Such experienced pain is beautifully presented in Jafar Panahi (the award-winning Iranian filmmaker) and Mojtaba Mirtahmasb's This is Not a Film (2011), a satirical attack against state censorship of movie making and a cry for reform, even as the former awaits news of the final judgement that will certainly send him to jail for some period (six years) and possibly take away his ability to ever produce a film again (twenty-year ban). I have enjoyed several of his films over the years, which often focus on restrictions in Iranian society (specially those placed on women) and continued class divisions. Filmed partly in iPhone in Panahi's posh apartment as he suffered house arrest, the "movie" masterfully pokes fun at the stupidity of censors, but also reveals how painful and scared his is that he will soon be seriously punished and be denied the opportunity to continue creating. His films have largely been banned in his own country, but have been richly and frequently awarded and are hailed internationally. As I write this review he is still in jail, a persecuted artist who dared to chide the authorities, and I hope continued international protest and whatever else can be brought to bear pressure can obtain his swift release and return him to what he does best, making movies, documentaries, and "nonmovies".

ELLIPSE

For artists, and those interested in the creative process of one musical artist, let me encourage you to watch Everything In-Between: The Story of Ellipse (2010), a documentary following the two-year production of her album Ellipse, covering not only some of the writing, but the construction of her sound studio, the experimentation with sounds, mastering the new equipment, working with other musicians, and many of the numerous struggles that go into composing. She is quite talented, and a bit zany. I have much enjoyed her music, both solo and in Frou Frou. There is somethign to be said for finally letting a project go, because one could tweek and tweek forever. The photography, both by Heap and whatever camera people she employed, as well as whomever out the documentarty together, did a good job of quickly capturing glimpses and propelling the story along to the hectic and tiring final days. They captured what appears to be a very free spirit, and a talented one at that (who apparently plays a wide range of instruments as well as just about anything else she can lay her hands on. For those who have never played music or recorded, it also opens one's eyes to some of what occurs in the long process of producing a song or album. Hard work, inspiration, long hours, willingness to scrap or refine, and so much more.

FRANCESCA WOODMAN

Art has to capacity to obsess and dominate individuals, especially creators, and it can lead to wonder but also tragedy, even madness for some. In the case of an entire family immersed in art all the waking hours, the stresses and competitiveness might be too difficult to handle. But outsiders seldom get to open a window on this world from the inside, getting perspective that is personal and intimate, as is the case in the beautiful documentary The Woodmans (2011), featuring the remarkable photography of Francesca Woodman, the interesting ceramics of her mother Betty, the painting of her father George, and mixed media work of her brother Charlie. Unfortunately the apparently fragile and unfulfilled Francesca could not handle some aspect of her world and chose to end her life. In this film her parents prominently try to tell their daughter's story. I really liked a lot of her work, though often not what others might have enjoyed the most; she was daring, an exhibitionist, a provocateur. Her peers and teachers recognized her talent, but like her father, recognition on a broader, commercial, museum scale lagged; Betty, stern and demanding, seemed to get much more applause. There is a lot to absorb here: the confusion and yearning of an artistic young woman, the loss experienced by parents, the value of art, the beauty of individual works, the preservation of legacy. There were a few times I thought that there could have been a little critical assessment, but overall I really enjoyed the movie (and the haunting score).

PATAGONIA

I live vicariously through the words and video of travelers and adventurers. You wouldn't get me on a mountaintop anymore, especially not one of the huge high ones, not so much that I couldn't make the climb up, but I know I wouldn't make the trip down (even on a small mountain), not with my knees. So tonight I went video adventuring with Jeff Johnson and his friends as they went on a six-month trip to try and tame Corcovado in Patagonia. Basically what you get in 180 Degrees South: Conquerors of the Useless (2010) is a documentary of a trip from the United States and Mexico, via ocean to Easter ISland and then to Chile, to essentially recreate a 1968 trip by Yvon Chouinard and Doug Tompkins (both founders of major equipment and clothing concerns, ie. Northface) and their buddies. There is sailing, surfing, travel, exploration, a tad romance, and a plea for conservation and protection of wild spaces, mixed in with a bit of mountaineering. The soundtrack sounds hippish or folk, but it is nice. Hopefully more people will become concerned about the never-ending damming of the world's rivers.

RUSSIAN BALLERINA STARS

In my ongoing quest to experience more ballet, and understand it better, tonight I watched Laurent Gentot's Prima Ballerina, a two-part film focusing on the beautiful Russian dancers Svetlana Zakharova (Moscow; Bolshoi) and Ulyana Popatinka (St. Petersburg; Mariinsky, or Kirov). What amazing graze and beauty, and the work of these two stars allowed me to delve more into understanding why comparisons of style are made, that although there are basic rules there are also differences in presentation. Although Popatinka is in my mind what I am used to seeing as a ballerina, I was swept away by the strength, flexibility, and unique style of Zakharova. Her Dying Swan was great. I was also taken back by the wonderful costumes and the beautiful productions of the Russians. I liked being able also to see both dancers do a modern piece; Zakharova's piece seems exceedingly difficult.

Also, I finally caught the old The Turning Point, a delightful movie that horrifyingly reminded me of the atrocious fashions we wore back in the seventies. Great dancing in the movie, including a young Russian import, Baryshnikov. A lot of nice parts featuring American Dance Company.

CATFISH

Watched a really amazing documentary called CATFISH, about how a young photographer in New York gets sucked into the elaborate Facebook fantasy of a middle-aged mother who passes herself off as several people, beginning with claiming to be a child prodigy in painting and eventually including a fake world populated by creative, beautiful, young people (one of which becomes the love interest of the photographer). Eventually his brother and a friend start producing a film about their relationship, but things really get interesting once they realize the ruse and start unraveling the real story, which is sad and fascinating in its own right. This woman (clearly slighted warped) gave up her dreams in her youth, and takes care of a large family in rural Michigan, which includes two physically and mentally-retarded boys (that she seems to do well with), as well as her daughter, but she loved her fantasy life and her fantasy romance with the young guy (which allowed her to dabble in the arts and feel special). Amazingly, she allowed the truth and story to be told through the documentary. It is a cautionary tale as well, about taking things online at face value.

AFGHAN STAR

Just watched a nice documentary, Afghan Star, about a television music-contest show akin to American Idol, designed to reintroduce popular music to Afghanistanis after their long dark ages under Taliban rule. It basically follows the attempt by four young singers to capture the hearts (and cell phone votes) of enough of their countrymen to garner nationwide fame and a sizable chunk of cash (no telling how valuable $5000 would be to them). The production is one step above amateurish and the quality of performances not what I am used to, but the singers all garner fervent support (often based along ethnic lines), and the show is a hit throughout the country and with just about everyone except religious fundamentalists. I must say that a few performers, especially the young woman who danced on stage during her farewell performance and incensed just about everyone, were extremely brave in challenging the restrictions they have encounter in recent times. Heck, even the fans who clamored for seats at the live performance struck me as brave, considering the possibility of terrorist attack. The documentary does remind viewers about the cultural blind spots in Afghanistan, but also reveals a diversity of viewpoints and a hope that the country can eventually, perhaps, join the rest of the world in enjoyment of the arts. I was shocked by just how dirty many people appeared. And I was surprised and delighted by the beauty of some of the buildings, especially the mosques, and how they stood out from the mud-colored towns and neighborhoods.

WAITING FOR SUPERMAN

I have been musing a bit about the documentary WAITING FOR SUPERMAN, a downer of a film about problems in American education. Although there was much to like, it came off as a propaganda piece for charter schools (some of which are doing amazing things) and an attack on teacher unions. You fall in love with the kids who are striving to get into programs with limited enrollments and are crushed alongside them as their bids in the lotteries fall short (I've been there). Isn't it sad that our children have to rely on luck to get seats in good programs? (I purposely moved into a district with the best possible elementary school and high school for my boys). But a little part of you says that these kids are going to make it, no matter. They have the drive. And there is genuine criticism, accurately leveled, against the "failure factories." I've seen it, been subjected to it in my own education. I think my high school lost more than half of the kids who came in with me in the tenth grade. I had teachers who literally ignored me (because I did well), often to try and help students who need more attention. In senior-year English, for instance, I spent most of my time tutoring students who were years behind me, while I was denied entrance into an AP English class (for what reason, I still do not know), back when there were few AP classes. But I also know this film is biased. Many charter schools simply do not measure up to their promises. Many private schools are attempts by parents to keep their kids away from minorities. The filmmakers do not focus on children who are doomed by factors outside the classroom, and who are probably given more chances and opportunities by teachers than any other individuals in their lives. And I support unions, at least in their position of being an advocate for teachers and a protector against arbitrary decisions by political or bureaucratic overseers---who frankly have agendas that are not always to the benefit of children. I think unions would better serve their membership, however, if they took a reformed approach toward getting rid of poor teachers. I think union representation should be there to prevent unfair firings or dismissals, especially politically motivated ones, but unions would be a stronger force for good if they supported and implemented a system that better evaluated member-teachers and either removed or rehabilitated bad or lazy ones. That there are "holding tanks" of teachers who sit on their butts at full pay for multiple years is a crime (as well as is the system of shuttling poor teachers frm school to school). They should be utilized during their appeals as hall monitors, tutors---heck, even as janitors, if needed. Clerks, front-office people. . .something. But states and countries with strong unions also have the better school records, and comparing the American way against countries that have cradle-to-grave social systems (such as Japan, Finland, and China, with thier mandatory child-care, health, and food programs) is dishonest. We Americans don't have the conformist mentality of the asian students nor the nurturing socialistic attitude of the Europeans. We have to find a middle ground. And yes, money matters. Smaller classes, better assessment, structured learning, and other things are needed. I think that if all kids were forced to go to school together, meaning NO private education, the wealthy and influential would damn well make sure the whole system worked better. Teachers deserve good pay and better support, but have to consider their role as more than just getting a check (and I think most teachers want to save the world and do their best to do so).

JAPANESE CATS

Just watched a nice documentary titled The Cats of Mirikitani, about Jimmy Mirikitani, a scrappy, independent eighty-year old Japanese-American artist who was living on the streets of New York City and doing his paintings and drawings (staying at this time at night in the enclosed plastic flower display area owned by a Korean shopkeeper), until the filmmaker happens upon him and ends up taking him home and assisting him to get into better housing (initially as a result of the results of the 9/11 disaster that happened as she was filming him nearby), while recording his work and memories. He was born in Sacramento and interned at Tule Lake during WWII, and that experience heavily influenced his art. He was separated from his family and apparently had not communicated to any of them (most of his mother's family were killed at Hiroshima) for more than 50 years, as he moved east (first somewhat forced to work on a farm, and then to New York, where he claimed to have cooked for Jackson Pollack and served as a chauffeur in NYC). The film is a loving portrait of an artist and tough man, and in the end he forgives his anger after visiting Tule and reconnecting with his sister. His art is amazing (and one wonders how great he could have been if he had been allowed freedom and wasn't discriminated against).

BURMA

Tonight I watched two documentaries about Myrnmar (Burma) and the democracy movement against the brutal military dictatorship there. The first, BURMA VJ, follows the efforts of a small group of underground reporters with handheld video cameras as they attempt to document a 2007 uprising led by the monks. The people are suffering from famine, ethnic cleansing, poor medical access, no freedoms, political repression, torture, and worse. The second, CROSSING MIDNIGHT, focuses on the plight of ethnic minorities (one-third of the nation) as they flee from military oppression (mostly in the countryside), and the efforts of a small group of doctors and teachers who have established a medical/social-servive compound in Thailand and who cross the border to provide medical care (often via backpacking) and other social and educational services. Both documentaries are riveting and heartrending, and they open a small window into the internal affairs of a terrible regime. I heartily recommend these films to anyone interested in international affairs, and more specifically, the plight of the Burmese people. I am lucky to have about a dozen Burmese living near me. I talked with one today (I think he was ex-military) who has been my neighbor for about three years, and he said they were very truthful.

MAKING IT

One of my favorite shows is A Chorus Line. I have seen several versions, as well as original clips, and it was covered, of course, in the PBS show about Broadway. I had heard that there was a new documentary, Every Little Step, covering the revival and the effort of more than 3000 performers to earn one of 22 spots. If you like the theater, and have ever tried for a show, there is much in here to really like. Me. . .I can't perform worth a lick, but there was much to pull at my heartstrings and squeeze a little tear. I really enjoyed it, and even the boys sat down and watched a little bit with me. I would never have the stomach to handle the stress and competition. But it also reveals how tough it is to nail a part. I especially liked the blending of old adn new, sampling of a rap session among the original cast (or workshop), that led to the development of many of the roles. I highly recommend this dvd.

CHIEFS

Keeping in the Native American theme, I watched the documentary Chiefs last night, a film that covers two seasons of basketball played mostly by Arapaho boys attending the Wyoming Indian High School on the Wind River Reservation. Basketball is wildly popular on American reservations, a fact noted by many writers, such as Sherman Alexie. The other popular sport for boys seems to be rodeo. The school has a long history of success on the court, and players are obviously revered in the community. The film concentrates on several players and has underlying themes that touch on reservation life, drugs (mostly marijuana), academics, poverty, and boredom. The has a straightforward moral message: talent without determination and hard work (several players in the first season had impressive physical tools, but were lazy, indulged in weed, performed poorly in the classroom, and basically enjoyed hanging out with their buddies) results in squandered opportunities. A lesser talented team that played hard and togeher with focus and determination achieves its goals. At times the photography is awkward, but the film captures the beauty and despair to be found on the reservation. I think it well shows the desire of parents, especially mothers, for their sons, especially, to find worthwhile goals and to face a broader world, to even leave the area if possible. You could just feel the mothers’ frustrations at times. The story buttresses familiar arguments about two-parent families providing stability and focus (in one case, supplemented by an uncle who is also a coach). There are many instances of racism exhibited by rivals toward the boys, though I wondered if editing overplayed this angle. Depending on one’s perspective, a viewer can come away from the film with positive feelings of hope and achievement, or can focus on the failures and roadblocks. This movie would be a good one to show highschoolers in order to stimulate discussion on a wide range of topics facing kids today.

DEATH

I have always been somewhat conflicted about the death penalty. Part of me thinks it is an appropriate penalty for murder, especially the most heinous cases (particularly against those who kill children), but in accepting this stand I have always believed that it should be absolutely as difficult as possible for the state to take a life, even if the convicted spends many years waiting for his final day. Death cannot be reversed. As I grow older, I come down, maybe even vindictively, on the side that even if they committed the crime, it is better they suffer in their cell, forced to think about it, than to have the easy way out by death. I know that the death penalty is not a deterrent. . .one only has to look at the rising numbers of individuals on death row, in startling numbers in some states, to know that argument does not hold water. And too many innocent people have been released because of scientifc evidence.

It is with this mindset that I watched a powerful and moving documentary, At the Death House Door, featuring the story of Carroll Picket, a minister present at more than 90 executions, who now is in the forefront against the death penalty in Texas (one of the most active state killers), and the story of what appears to be an innocent man put to death. I was impressed by the strength and wisdom, and quiet purposefulness, of Pickett. I felt for DeLuna's family, especially one sister. I know that in many cases the families of the murdered suffered even more, and I know a hateful demon would rise up in me if one of my sons was ever a victim. But I think many people may come to different conclusions about teh effectiveness of the sentence and the honesty of some of our public officials should they have the opportunity to watch this excellent film.

WIREWALKING

Tried to get my sons interested in watching the acclaimed documentary Man on Wire, about Frenchman Phillipe Petit's 1974 walk on a wire strung between the as yet unfinished World Trade Towers. I thought it was pretty good, though possibly not worthy of the greatest accolades (though WTC sympathy vote may have played a role), as it was a notable highlight in the towers' existence. The boys managed to make it all the way through, but were bored. No doubt the switches in language may have hindered their enjoyment. I liked watching the clothes and hairdos, from my younger days. The guy surely had guts and was a bit cracked, if you ask me, but then I would have been petrified had I even been near the edge.