"You know, you can tell a lie long enough til you believe it" says Joyce McKinney, the larger than life subject of Errol Morris' frequently hilarious and slightly creepy documentary 'Tabloid'. A former Miss America participant from the deep south, McKinney was at the centre of a major sex scandal in the late 70s, still known as "The Case of the Manacled Mormon", after being arrested in London for kidnapping and raping a Mormon missionary who she was obsessed with.
She has always maintained her three-day love affair with Kirk Anderson (who resembles Rainn Wilson), who she was accused to tying up in a Devon cottage, was consensual and that his accusing her of kidnap was the result of brainwashing from his church. Whatever the truth of the matter (which possibly lies somewhere between the two accounts), her story became the centre of a war between two tabloid newspapers: The Daily Express and The Daily Mirror, who competed to fill their pages with the most lurid accounts of her sexual escapades.
Morris builds his documentary from a mixture of archive materials (photography and footage) and talking head interviews with McKinney, the private pilot hired to fly her to England (apparently impressed by her "totally see-through" blouse), an excitable member of the Mormon church and a pair of old hacks from both newspapers at the centre of the story. Yet even with such seemingly limited scope, it's highly cinematic thanks to slick editing and imaginative use of sound and graphics. But it's McKinney herself - and her bizarre story, which takes several unexpected turns - who is the star attraction, making 'Tabloid' so ceaselessly entertaining.
Underneath the light and exploitative surface there is seemingly a story of great sadness here, with the subject either mentally disturbed or genuinely jilted by the love of her life - and either way it's clear she was the victim of the worst kind of muck-raking journalism, regardless of whether she courted a degree of celebrity throughout her extraordinary life. Yet even if it makes us complicit in her exploitation, McKinney is the best kind of unreliable narrator, seemingly convinced by her own stories (even as she admits owing a lot to high school drama classes), making for an obscenely funny and endlessly surprising 87 minutes.
'Tabloid' is on a limited release in the UK, rated '18' by the BBFC. It's released on DVD next month.
You can't really write a review of James Marsh's documentary 'Project Nim' without mentioning 'Rise of the Planet of the Apes'. Not only were both chimp-based movies released in the UK on the same day, but both overlap in terms of how they portray the life, from birth to adulthood, of one chimpanzee. And to quite disturbing effect.
Using the same mix of filmed interviews, dramatic re-enactments and archive material (amateur film, news coverage and still photography) that worked so well in Marsh's last film, the Academy Award winning 'Man on Wire', 'Project Nim' tells the story of Nim Chimpskey: a chimp abducted from his mother in the early 70s in order test whether language is unique to humans. However, despite being raised as a human child by a slightly mad New York family of "rich hippies", Nim was eventually discarded: given up for laboratory testing after the experiment concluded. Though eventually purchased from that facility by a wealthy animal sanctuary owner, Nim would spend the rest of his life in solitude within the confines of a concrete cage - his brief time in the media spotlight long since over.
The experiment itself comes across as a farce from beginning to end, with every scientist along the way growing personally attached to the chimp (treating him as a friend or infant human rather than an animal), perhaps all too eager to believe his repetition of various signs was proof of "language". But what's really striking are the questions it raises about the way chimps are kept by humans for entertainment and science (also a central theme of 'Rise'). As with his blockbuster counterparts, Nim's conditions in one animal sanctuary are like those of a prison, with the animals put to work in the yard whilst the humans patrol with cattle prods. One worker from the sanctuary says that there were "a couple of murders and two suicides" amongst the inmates and this bizarre similarity is matched by both films near identical portrayal of sterile medical research labs.
By the look of things, the experiment was hardly safe for the humans involved either, as we hear how the maturing Nim frequently attacked his handlers - biting a hole in the cheek of one woman and sinking his fangs dangerously close to the artery of another. At one point Nim kills a poodle whilst attempting to shut it up, whilst he also becomes obsessed with using household cats for the purposes of sexual gratification. Much like David Oyelowo's nasty, profit-obsessed businessman character in 'Rise of the Planet of the Apes', those behind the Nim experiment seem to have overlooked the safety of those involved in search of fame and profit.
The documentary mostly dismisses Herbert Terrace (the man behind the study) as little more than a publicity seeker and a slightly creepy user of impressionable young women. And, on the evidence provided, that may well be a fair assessment of his character. Yet Terrace's quite reasonable conclusion, that Nim did not in fact learn sign language but simply repeated gestures he learned would result in some form of gratification (food, contact, entertainment), is presented cynically by the film. It's as if Marsh is personally convinced, against science, that the chimp really did learn language. Contributors who speak about Nim more romantically, talking about holding "conversations" with the chimp and smoking pot with him, are given more favourable screen-time.
A perfect companion piece to 'Rise of the Planet of the Apes', 'Project Nim' serves to highlight the real life animal rights issues behind the fantasy, as well as showing how accurate some of that bigger film's settings really are. But even in isolation this is a worthwhile documentary. Incredibly heartfelt testimony of some of Nim's handlers ensures that it packs an emotional punch, whilst Marsh has lost none of the filmmaking tools which made his previous film so slick and entertaining.
'Project Nim' is on limited release in the UK now and is rated 'U' by the BBFC.
Just up on What Culture, my review of French football documentary 'The Referees' which is out on limited release tomorrow in the UK. If you can catch it I'd recommend it, though it's not without its faults - mainly the fact there just isn't enough confrontation between players and referees in it. But it's a decent look at a side of the sport we don't usually see.
It was a forgone conclusion that I would cry by the end of 'Senna', the biographical documentary about the Brazilian three-time Formula One world champion who died after crashing his car during the 1994 San Marino Grand Prix. I'm easily manipulated and knew that, by the time the film got to covering the event of his premature death, I would have been rendered helpless by endless earnest accounts of the subject's greatness aided by elegiac, probably string-driven music. I was expecting to feel moved, if for no other reason than it is sad to hear about the accidental death of a relatively young person. But 'Senna', directed by Asif Kapadia, rises above cloying sentiment to provide a portrait of the icon that is as tragic as expected, yet equal parts exciting, joyful and insightful.
Mostly avoiding the driver's personal life, beyond frequent references to his devout Catholicism, the documentary does well to maintain a solid focus on Senna's career - showing us his development as a go-kart racer in his youth and following his F1 years season-by-season right up to his death. The relationships that become a part of this narrative include Senna's notorious rivalry with McLaren teammate Alain Prost, his friendship with team boss Ron Dennis and his unhappy experiences dealing with the political side of the sport - as personified by FIA President Jean-Marie Balestre. This narrative, which plays out like the best dramatic sports movie, is allowed to play out using only stock footage and candid shots of life behind the scenes. The fact that those who have been interviewed especially for the film are heard but never seen keeps the focus on the amazing racing footage and ensures the film keeps its forward momentum.
A film about the triumph and tragedy of the attractive, charismatic Ayrton Senna is not a hard sell, even for myself - as someone with next to no interest in F1 racing. But what is surprising is that the racing itself is incredibly exciting to watch, especially those shots which are taken from the perspective of Senna as he whips around corners at immense speed. Through the cinema, even those allergic to sport are made to appreciate Senna's art and his daring desire to win at almost any cost. We witness high-speed overtaking and marvel at his aptitude for driving in the rain - a condition under which he seemed simply unbeatable. Watching him race, it isn't hard to understand why so many millions of Brazilians looked to him for inspiration during some of the country's poorest years.
Audiences have been reported as staying until the very end of the credits before leaving showings of 'Senna' - a practice usually reserved for those expecting a brief epilogue at the end of a superhero movie. They'll tell you they were enjoying the montage of still photographs, though I suspect this is a convenient smokescreen for those weepy souls battling to compose themselves before re-emerging into the outside world. Yet 'Senna' is not an on-screen funeral for those looking to re-acquaint themselves with grief almost two decades old: this is ultimately a celebration and an invitation for those of us who missed it all the first time around to see what made him so undeniably special.
'Senna' is on a wide release now in the UK and has been rated '12A' by the BBFC.
There has been a glut of movies about the financial crisis since 2008. Oliver Stone made his sequel to 'Wall Street', whilst Michael Moore took the opportunity to make a typically polemical documentary about the more general subject of American capitalism. Later this year another star-studded and glossy Hollywood movie about bankers and the collapse of the stock market will be released in the form of 'Margin Call'. But so far the only one of these resolutely topical movies to meet with widespread critical acclaim has been the earnest and indignant documentary 'Inside Job', a film directed by Charles Ferguson and narrated by Matt Damon and winner of the Oscar for Best Documentary Feature last month.
A 'must-see' for graph fetishists, 'Inside Job' comes packed with facts and figures - each new revelation about greed and corruption designed to enrage its audience. Unlike the work of that great propagandist Michael Moore, Ferguson's film doesn't try especially hard to energise viewers into positive political action, rather it serves to confirm what 99% of its probable audience either knew or suspected going in: that the American government is controlled by Wall Street and that everyone from President Obama to the IMF to the board at AIG want to keep it that way. In other words it tells us that reform of the banking system is impossible as things stand - even when a reform candidate with a strong mandate takes office at a time when the system's failures are at their most apparent. It's a numbing feeling watching it for that very reason. Damon's sober narration leaves us with a half-hearted rallying cry just before the credits pop up, inciting us to fight for change, but you will in all likelihood have lost hope in civilisation long beforehand in the face of overwhelming evidence of deep-rooted systemic corruption.
Perhaps I'm missing the point, but I have a slight problem with documentaries like 'Inside Job' and it isn't a case of apathy or world-weary nihilism on my part at all. I have the same problem with (or indifference towards) the work of Richard Dawkins, in that I just can't see the point in preaching to the converted in this way. One thing the film makes abundantly clear is that the financial institutions involved in causing the crisis, and with it mass unemployment and bankruptcy around the world, have committed large-scale criminal acts - either consciously (which seems probable) or as a result of gross negligence. And yet we also see time and time again through all the interviews (with economists, academics, government officials etc) that the perpetrators are not only still running the world, with no realistic end to that situation in sight, but that they are also wholly unrepentant (presumably because many of the individuals involved became richer as a result of the crisis). Change can only be effected by those at the top and those at the top don't have it in their best interests to effect change.
This dispiriting truth, which I'm assuming a healthy percentage of the audience already knew before buying their ticket, makes it difficult to take anything away from 'Inside Job' other than rage or depression, either that or possibly a sense of overbearing smugness. You can criticise Michael Moore for being brash and manipulative, but at least he has something to say - his films are essays or editorial columns which have a political point to drive home. They want to inspire the audience into action, whether that involves forming some sort of worker's cooperative or voting a certain way in the next election. He also highlights things members of his audience might not know about, such as the history of American socialism. In short: whether you like them or not, Moore's films have a reason to exist. I can see the function they have and I can understand why they are interesting. 'Inside Job' is, by contrast, two hours of someone saying "the banking system corrupt and wreckless." Yes. I agree. What else have you got?
'Capitalism: A Love Story' also went an interesting route in talking about the financial crisis in that Moore used it as a way to discuss the fundamental problems with the ideology behind the system rather than simply providing an annotated guide to the crisis itself. To me that is where the interesting discussion is at and only when we question fundamental things about the way we organise out society/economy can we hope to break this cycle.
Though if a detailed account of the crisis with interviews and graphs is what you're after then there is no better film than 'Inside Job'. It is detailed and well researched, and the interviews are very well done, especially as Ferguson has no difficulty telling truth to power and does so confidently whilst always remaining polite. Unlike Moore you could accuse him of being hectoring of self-important. The best interviews see the likes of economist Glenn Hubbard squirm uncomfortably, struggling to answer questions so obviously aware of their guilt. These are the best scenes but also the saddest, as we see powerful, influential men - who are blatantly aware of their guilt - lying to us brazenly. The section that highlights the conflict of interests within the academic profession is especially good. It is certainly a smartly made movie and unquestionably on the side of right.
If there is such a thing as objectivity then I would have to say that 'Inside Job' is a very handsome film, clearly made by people passionately engaged with the subject at hand and backed up by lots of solid evidence. It must also be said that the pre-credits sequence about the impact of deregulation and privatisation in Iceland is fascinating. I'm not telling you to pass on watching it, not at all. I'm simply saying that you will likely leave the film with the same opinion of financial institutions as you had going in (whatever that may be) - and I personally don't see the point in that. Maybe people crave reassurance that they are right more than they want to be challenged or provoked? I couldn't say. I just know that Michael Moore can move me and inspire me whilst this left me feeling cold and unwilling to engage with an unfair world.
'Inside Job' is out on a limited release in the UK and is rated '12A' by the BBFC.
If there is one word that sums up the feature film work of Michel Gondry it is probably nostalgia. His next film is 'The Green Hornet', a modern take on a character which made his debut on the radio in the 1930s and who was made most famous by his 1960s TV incarnation (which co-starred Bruce Lee). His last film 'Be Kind Rewind' was equally backward looking, taking its inspiration from VHS cassettes and cinema of the 1980s - with Gondry recreating lo-fi versions of such films as 'Ghostbusters' and 'Driving Miss Daisy'. The Frenchman also directed 'Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind' which looked at the importance of memories and 'The Science of Sleep' which looked at the significance of dreams (through the eyes of a childish nostalgic played by Gael Garcia Bernal), whilst his first film 'Human Nature' was in some respects the ultimate look back as it followed Rhys Ifans as a primitive man raised by apes.
It is entirely fitting then that Gondry has chosen to shoot a documentary about his elderly aunt Suzette, a former school teacher. The film looks back at her life, and in the process that of Gondry's own parents and childhood, by way of a great deal of Super 8 film footage (the ultimate resource of the nostalgic?) as well as some very intimate interviews. The interviews are warm and Gondry comes across as thoughtful and kind-natured whilst managing to coax some quite poignant, heartfelt reminiscences - which mostly relate to the turbulent relationship between Suzette and her son Jean-Yves. It is from these interactions that the film's title is taken as Suzette describes her son as the thorn in her heart. Yet as you might expect from a Michel Gondry film, there is also a great deal of good humour and a sense of fun over a lot of the documentary.
In his typically inventive and inspired lo-fi style, Gondry uses animation to bring some of his aunt's recollections to life. In one playful scene, which had me in stitches, Gondry re-enacts a moment that his cameras have missed staging an incident in which Jean-Yves became "trapped" in a bathroom after a small clothes horse fell against the door. Opening the door ajar, Gondry has a member of his crew replicate how Jean-Yves poked his head through the gap and whined for his elderly mother to move the small laundry-drying apparatus blocking his path. In another innovative and charming sequence, Gondry makes a class of school children run around wearing green screen cloaks which he uses to make them appear invisible. As they charge around the playground with only their heads and feet visible, there is a great feeling of experimentation and spontaneity as the director looks to excite the children about the possibilities of his medium.
But the best "stunt" of his in this low-key film happens when Suzette takes him to the site of a demolished school where only an old projection box remains standing. Gondry and his crew decide to turn the space into a cinema once again and fashion a screen out of a timber frame and some bed sheets before taking an old projector into the old projection box and screening an old film for Suzette and some of her former students, now themselves middle-aged. It is a joyful and moving moment in a film full of such moments.
The film's crowning achievement is that whilst Gondry is always on friendly terms with his subjects (whom he clearly loves dearly) he does manage to get a lot of truth out of the exercise. His aunt is depicted with great admiration and respect, yet Gondry also manages to convey how she has perhaps neglected her son - possibly on account of his homosexuality - in favour of attending to the generations of school children who came through her classroom, all of whom seem to look on her more fondly than Jean-Yves. The relationship between Jean-Yves and his deceased father is similarly troubling. Yet this is counterbalanced by more jovial scenes, such as the opening in which Suzette tells stories about her husband over a big family dinner, during which she is incapacitated by laughter.
The family as depicted by Gondry is complex: equal parts beautiful and damaged. This balance is something which Gondry seems to portray so effortlessly without it ever feeling like he is manipulating his audience or his subjects. The film may even seem to suffer from the fact that it is so relaxed and slight - it could almost look like Gondry hasn't done anything at all. Though I think 'The Thorn in the Heart' is a really wonderful and personal piece of filmmaking from a director consistently so adept at looking backwards without compromising either his judgement or his artistry.
'The Thorn in the Heart' is rated 'PG' by the BBFC.
Chances are if you asked somebody if they'd seen "the film about Facebook" they'd probably think you were referring to David Fincher's 'The Social Network', a film about the site's founder Mark Zuckerberg and the litigation surrounding the origins of his now omnipresent creation. Yet for Fincher's thriller that is perhaps a misleading moniker, with the film actually more of a Shakespearean tragedy about power and betrayal. Really the film about Facebook itself is the documentary 'Catfish', directed by Henry Joost and Ariel Schulman.
'Catfish' follows photographer and brother of one of the film's co-directors, Yaniv "Nev" Schulman, as he receives a painting of one of his photographs done by a talented eight year-old girl named Abby. Nev befriends Abby's mother Angela on Facebook and soon "friends" the entire family on the social networking site. He is particularly taken with Abby's older sister Megan, a model, dancer, photographer and musician, and begins an intimate long-distance relationship with her. However, when Megan sends Nev some of her music he becomes suspicious of the whole family after finding that the clips had been taken off YouTube. Then the documentary turns from taking an innocent look at Nev's relationship with this multi-talented family to trying to uncover the truth behind who these people are.
The reason I suggest 'Catfish' is about Facebook (at least in part) is that, as immediately evident from the Universal logo at the start redone in the style of Google Earth, the film is overtly interested in the mechanics of how we interact online and why. It looks at social isolation and depression as one of the causes of using the web as a tool for escapist fantasy. It looks at the pitfalls of considering the internet as a place to meet people and make real, lasting connections. Also, it showcases the relative ease and sophistication with which people can now fashion convincing, fully realised fiction about themselves - something which 'Catfish' manages to take to its creepy (though not unexpected) conclusion.
The film is not only actually about the phenomenon of social networking and online dating, but it is also interestingly told using the websites themselves. We witness Facebook correspondence, are introduced to people via their "tagged" Facebook photos, whilst Google Earth and Street View are used extensively to establish locations. As the investigation into the truth behind Megan and her family gathers steam, we watch the filmmakers using search engines to research the family, at one point surfing real estate websites in the family's area to verify elements of their story. As much as this is Nev's story, it is also the story of what the internet has become in our lifetime: with the original novelty value of online shopping and news now just a matter-of-fact part of our existence (do-able even on most mobile phones) the internet is morphing into something more voyeuristic and even Orwellian.
Part of the joy of 'Catfish' is the uncertainty surrounding the "truth", so I won't write too much more about it here. Except to say that it is a highly compelling, dramatic and at times sinister film with as many laughs as awkward moments. Some have questioned its authenticity as a documentary, though I was pretty convinced by it. But even if it emerges that it was faked to some degree, I think there is still truth in it as a story that is probably playing out around the world (even if not to this extreme). In the end the film felt a bit like a Louis Theroux film about strange people. Though whereas Theroux is a little insincere and smirky with his subjects, the filmmakers here are actually refreshingly sensitive to the situation as the quest comes to a head. Whatever confrontations occur in the end are reasonable and handled sympathetically. This is where the film is at its best, as it packs a surprisingly emotional punch and tells an ultimately quite tragic story when it could have simply mined the situation for laughs and freakdom.
I never thought 'The Social Network' was the "film about Facebook" its detractors (or quite often those who didn't take time to watch it) tried to paint it as. But now that a film about Facebook is here, and is also very good, that line of argument seems all the more redundant.
'Catfish' has been rated '12A' by the BBFC and can be found playing in select cinemas across the UK. The film is also due out on DVD from January 10th.
Gruff Rhys, the man behind the Super Furry Animals, has co-directed, written and starred in a documentary so small that, at the time of writing, it is still "awaiting 5 votes" on the IMDB. That film is 'Separado!', a quirky little movie, less than an hour and a half long, which charts Rhys' journey from Wales to Patagonia (South Argentina) in search of his distant relatives who joined many hundreds of Welsh in emigrating to that part of the world in the late 19th century. On his journey, through Brazil as well as Argentina, Rhys traces the legacy of his Welsh ancestors and looks at the interesting musical hybrid between Latin and traditional Welsh music which can still be heard in parts of South America today.
On this trip we see that many Patagonian places have Welsh names and that many still speak the language. Rhys even manages to meet an old man who is closely and directly descended from the original Welsh settlers (who is also proudly in possession of the first organ brought to Argentina by these pioneers). Impressively, he does all of this speaking three languages over the course of the film, speaking Welsh, English and having a decent command of conversational Spanish to boot.
All of this is shown in a really surreal and unconventional way too, with Rhys teleporting himself between locations after donning a huge Power Ranger helmet, and with many bizarre and trippy musical interludes. In fact the film is as much about making music as it is about anything else. There is really nothing to criticise here. The film is barely long enough to get boring. The history is fascinating in itself and seeing the modern Welsh communities of Patagonia (and hearing their music) is an intriguing cultural oddity. Rhys comes across very well too, and spending time in his company is hardly a chore, even for someone who isn't a fan of his music, such as I (not because it's bad, but because I am not familiar with it).
Perhaps the movie could put many off with its unconventional and experimental form, but even then the chance to see this South American road trip is too good to miss. It also has a serious point, underneath all the quirky-ness, about how important it is to hold onto cultural identity - a fact which is perhaps more pressing today for Welsh-speakers than it was in the 1860s. There is also the brutal irony (not lost on the filmmakers), that in escaping persecution from the British, like many other colonials, the Welsh played a part in the persecution of another native people (in this case the Tehuelche, who were removed by the Argentine government now in control of the region). If you can find it playing and have even a minimal interest in any of the above, then there is probably something for you in 'Separado!'.
'Separado!' is so small it hasn't even been rated by the BBFC. But it can be found playing one-off shows at various cinemas, including many Picturehouses.
Following on from his 2003 documentaries on Fidel Castro ('Comandante') and Yasser Arafat ('Persona Non Grata'), Oliver Stone journeyed into South America, meeting leaders from six countries, for his latest film 'South of the Border'. Focusing primarily on Venezuela's Hugo Chavez, the documentary looks at the negative and biased portrayal of these leaders in the American media. In this film, through interviews and use of archive news footage, Stone seeks to counteract a number of the claims made by media outlets, presenting these leaders in a more positive light.
Perhaps this might not seem like a admirable cause to many, with Stone seemingly replacing one one-sided viewpoint with another, but when you are told (via Stone's narration) that much of the media within Venezuela is partisan and anti-Chavez - controlled by oil companies and special interests - then this documentary seems not only justified, but necessary.
Disappointingly, the "interviews" themselves (with Chavez as well as six other leaders including Raul Castro) are really little more than friendly chats between Stone and the subject. During these meetings he invites Bolivian leader Evo Morales to play soccer with him and asks the Argentine President Cristina Kirchner how many pairs of shoes she owns, whilst he encourages Chavez to ride around on a small bicycle. These moments are intended to humanise people so often demonised, but they just made me feel as though Stone were wasting these people's time. I don't mean to say I wanted to see Stone take an adversarial tone at odds with the point of his film, but just that I would have preferred to hear more of the political arguments (but maybe that's just me). I also worry that this approach limits the appeal of the film, perhaps making it preach to the converted. Somebody less sympathetic to the subjects than I might feel that this approach robs the film of credibility. Which is ashame, because there is good stuff here.
The thing is that when Stone isn't asking his subjects to behave like buffoons, in the name of being media friendly, they actually all come across really well. All are eloquent and reasonable and all seem genuine and engaged with their people - particularly the poor. Chavez drives himself around and talks happily to citizens who approach his modest jeep. The scenes in which we see the leaders interact with each other are probably the best and it is these which represent the biggest coup for Stone. The Cuban veteran, Raul Castro, rebukes Stone for suggesting he is perhaps a loftier figure than the likes of Ecuador's relatively young Rafael Correa, saying that they are all equals and that all has their own ideas to bring to the table.
'South of the Border' is not a flawless piece of documentary film making. It is, however, a necessary opposing viewpoint to the one which we are usually offered - in regard to Chavez in particular. Probably my favourite aspect of the film is that, like the equally polemical work of Michael Moore, it contains a lot of information which could be depressing and yet manages to end on a note of optimism. In this case it is the hope that these South American leaders can bring the South American Continent together in a way which could see it forever independent from American political interference.
Furthermore, Tariq Ali goes as far as to suggest that this new left-leaning South American influence might eventually find its way into North America. To me that sounds like a fantasy. But it is one I was happy enough to indulge in. Perhaps the most heartening message was that given by Brazil's centre-left Lula da Silva who said that he has no interest in fighting with the United States but simply wishes to see his country treated as an equal. If nothing else, Stone's documentary is a good equaliser, launching a fierce counter-attack on the right-wing media. In my view, a laudable goal achieved with modest success.
'South of the Border' is out on limited release in the UK and is rated '15' by the BBFC. Brighton's Duke of York's Picturehouse is showing it on the weekend of the 7th and 8th of August.
5. There are deeper strata of truth in cinema, and there is such a thing as poetic, ecstatic truth. It is mysterious and elusive, and can be reached only through fabrication and imagination and stylization.
8. Each year at springtime scores of people on snowmobiles crash through the melting ice on the lakes of Minnesota and drown. Pressure is mounting on the new governor to pass a protective law. He, the former wrestler and bodyguard, has the only sage answer to this: “You can’t legislate stupidity.”
9. The gauntlet is herby thrown down.
10. The moon is dull. Mother Nature doesn’t call, doesn’t speak to you, although a glacier eventually farts. And don’t you listen to the Song of Life.
11. We ought to be grateful that the Universe out there knows no smile.
12. Life in the oceans must be sheer hell. A vast, merciless hell of permanent and immediate danger. So much of hell that during evolution some species—including man—crawled, fled onto some small continents of solid land, where the Lessons of Darkness continue.
Set in 2006 'Sons of Cuba' sets the lives of three "Under-12" athletes at Havana's Boxing Academy against a backdrop of political uncertainty and change in Cuba, as an unwell Castro allows his younger brother Raúl to take over power. There is genuine concern and sadness on the faces of the youngsters as they gather around a television to hear the special news bulletin explaining events. With genuine affection the children refer to him as the "Comandante" and they read stories about his past exploits in colourful picture books as part of school.
There is a refreshing lack of cynicism amongst the young boxers as they refer to each other as "comrade athlete" and hug after bouts. When three champion boxers defect for the United States (where they stand to make more money by going professional) there is very real sadness and betrayal on the faces of every Cuban interviewed. A father tells us that one of the men lived on his street and was a role-model for his son, speaking of him in a tone and manner usually reserved for sex offenders or child murderers. When Castro fails to make a public appearance due to his poor health, the concerned children declare that they will fight the US if they dare attack now.
But if the US are for many Cubans something of a pantomime villain there are small signs that the island has not entirely escape cultural imperialism. One of the boxers wears a Nike jacket, whilst other T-shirts carry familiar slogans and images like "NYC". When the children exercise by pretending to row a boat, one of them shouts "lets row all the way to Florida!" British film-maker Andrew Lang's documentary may be understandably light on actual overt political dissent, but there is something bubbling under the surface.
Not least of all when we meet one junior athlete's father, a former Olympic and World Champion boxer who now lives in a run-down, one-room shack in quiet anonymity. He speaks well of Castro and fondly remembers the time the leader gave him a medal to honour his achievements. But there is more than a twinge of regret in his eyes. "They gave me a car and a house, but the car stopped working long ago and now I live here", he says before thinking and asking "it's not right me living like this is it?" Who is to say what is right and wrong here. How should a retired athlete live? But we imagine that he would be living more comfortably in the US and we are left to wonder if this is the fate that awaits the next generation of champions. At any rate, it contextualises the actions of those who defect.
Cuba has supplied more Olympic champion boxers than any other country and, beyond all the politics, this is chiefly what the documentary explores. How has this relatively small, poor and isolated nation bested the biggest and the wealthiest time and time again? 'Sons of Cuba' does a great job of explaining this. We see the children's daily routine as they get up at 4am to begin training. We see how, even at such a young age, they have their diets strictly monitored and controlled. We are shown the national championships they compete in with students from boxing academies throughout Cuba, which are hugely competitive. And whilst boxing is an individualistic sport, we see how the Cubans are encouraged to see it as a team game, playing in groups for their school. They are instilled with a fiery will to win, but also a huge amount of respect for their fellow fighters.
I am not a fan of boxing and know almost nothing about it, but this human drama, so full of poignant moments and extraordinary characters. The young boxers are so wise beyond their years that you forget they are the "under-12s". There are many scenes of tears, but these are shared with the mothers, the fathers and the coach. They are all on an emotional roller-coaster, hopeful that these young children will someday be able to compete at the Olympics. But, as the former champion tells us in his shack, "sport is a flickering moment". What the future holds for these young stars we do not yet know. But whatever happens, 'Sons of Cuba' is a moving and beautiful documentary that works on many levels. Equally good as a sporting story or as a socio-political document from an interesting time in Cuban history.
I won’t detail my feelings on the “urban artist” Banksy here, due to the fact that they are basically the same as those voiced (in a much funnier way) by Charlie Brooker about four years ago in his Guardian column. I will say that, for me, Banksy is perhaps the ultimate example of the contemporary culture as he exists in a state of ironic detachment, always unaccountable and with an emphasis on style, not simply over, but instead of substance. Banksy is also, paradoxically, famous for being anonymous (an anonymity which he has arguably sort to maintain in order to attract more publicity and greater renown to his art).
Therefore, it came as no surprise watching a documentary titled ‘Exit Through the Gift Shop’, billed as “A Banksy Film”, to find a something so intent on being enigmatic, that it is in fact just totally narcissistic (Rhys Ifans narration frequently goes to great lengths to tell us just how vital Bansky is to modern culture). The notion of “A Banksy Film” is also a purposefully vague description as no director has been credited, either in the credits, or on the film’s IMDB entry. Is this satirical comment on the redundancy of auteur theory, or merely a post-modern pose? I suspect the latter, but then am I now falling into a trap by taking this film seriously? The level of detached insincerity on show, for me, constitutes the films major problem, whilst for others it will no doubt be the films crowning achievement.
The "story" is as follows: We learn early on, in a comic twist, that this is not going to be a film about Bansky. Rather we are given a look at an artless pretender to Bansky’s throne as ‘Exit Through the Gift Shop’ is, (at face value) a documentary chronicling the life and times of Thierry Guetta, a man (who we are told) is obsessed with recording every second of his life on camera. Thierry, from the outset something of a comic figure, somehow bumbles his way into being an insider on the urban art scene, where he eventually meets and befriends Bansky, before becoming an artist in his own right, under the pseudonym “Mr. Brainwash”. How seriously you take any of that is really up to you.
It seems convenient to me that everything "Mr. Brainwash" comes to represent in the film is thrown into stark contrast with the films version of Bansky: "Mr. Brainwash" is all about the money, whereas Bansky (if the mysterious hooded figure even is Bansky) tells us his art is not about money; "Mr. Brainwash" is an overnight sensation, whereas Bansky tells us that he spent years finding his style and perfecting his craft. Essentially the film seems to be telling us one thing: "Mr. Brainwash" is a sell-out and Banksy is not. The whole exercise seems cooked up to legitimise and further mythologize the Banksy business (and it is a business, whatever he says, with this film adding to the books and the Blur album cover). A great deal of time and effort is spent presenting Bansky as the genuine article alongside the delusional, faker that is Thierry Guetta.
However ‘Exit’ is frequently a funny and entertaining film if you are prepared to see it not as a documentary, but as this year’s ‘Le Donk’ or ‘Spinal Tap’. Afterall, the character of Thierry Guetta ticks all the classic mocumentary character boxes, the most obvious one being his lack of self-awareness. He says preposterous things with the appearance complete earnestness. When he begins to market himself as a street artist, it is with the delusions of grandeur common within that comic genre. Of course, reading it as a straight up comedy finds it lacking a little in the laughs department, but it is far more effective as a comedy than as a documentary: containing laughs but no solid documentary data, or even an accountable point of view.
The thing I enjoyed most about the film was its lampooning of art culture. In many scenes, those who think they are in the know demonstrate the vapidity and the falseness of modern art consumption by so-called experts (basically posers). ‘Exit’ shows similar people at Bansky’s own LA exhibition (which boasts celebrity fans and mass-media coverage) to the people it later ridicules at the "Mr. Brainwash" exhibit, prompting the film’s most interesting question: Is Bansky taking a pop at his own fame and his place within the art establishment? Is he bringing down the whole deck of cards with this film (if indeed it is even ‘his’ film)? But to read any of this into ‘Exit Through the Gift Shop’ may just be playing Banksy’s game. I feel that the truth is that the film, like Bansky’s art, says nothing but that which cultural commentators ascribe it. Maybe as an exercise that sort of thing is fine and valid, but it doesn’t work for me. I feel that for me to analyse this thing too hard is to in some way validate it. And I don’t want to do that because it’s a load of (quite entertaining) toss. Maybe I just don't get it, and he's a genius. But I doubt it.
'Exit Through the Gift Shop' is rated '15' by the BBFC and is currently playing at the Duke of York's Picturehouse in Brighton. Read my Splendor Podcast co-hosts impressions of the film from the Berlin film festival here, whilst another colleague looked at the film way back at Sundance. What glamorous lives they lead...
There is a tendency in documentary criticism to laud the films which seem most honest and objective, the films which seem to show you the “truth” of a place or a person, seemingly from a distance, unedited and without judgement. Of course, this is always an illusion, as all film is manipulative to lesser and greater degrees, but films like last year’s mesmerising ‘Sleep Furiously’ do their level best to seem as though you have just been taken to a place and are having a nose around. The same cannot be said of the Michael Moore documentaries (which include ‘Roger & Me’, ‘Bowling for Columbine’, ‘Fahrenheit 911’ and ‘Sicko’), which clearly present a subjective argument and a point of view. This sort of documentary is usually more polarising and less well received, so it goes.
Over time I had allowed naysayers to lead me to doubt whether I had ever liked Michael Moore in the first place. I had seen (and enjoyed) his movies, but the popular feeling amongst my peers seemed to be that he was merely populist, simplistic and brash. There seems to be an embarrassment about Michael Moore, especially from people who share his politics but don’t like him as their spokesperson. It was with this feeling that I went into ‘Capitalism: A Love Story’, expecting to find fault with it. However, it completely sold me on Moore all over again.
‘Capitalism’ is at its strongest when it plays it straight, with most of the comedy falling a little flat, notably in one scene where a Bush speech is given a zany, animated background which just distracts from what is being said (maybe it is intended as a clever device to show literally how we are being distracted by fear... but I doubt it). However, to his credit Moore decides to play it straight most of the time with this film and with quite excellent results. Archive footage of FDR speaking about a planned “second bill of rights” is played in full without any voice-over or music, and is quite something when seen projected in a cinema. Likewise, statistical data is always presented entertainingly, yet delivered earnestly and with clear passion, which is refreshing to see in our increasingly apathetic culture.
The weakest element with ‘Capitalism’ is a familiar one from across the entire Moore filmography, as he has a tendency to allow his films to become quite mawkish. My favourite example of this is in ‘Bowling for Columbine’, as Moore feigns upset and indignation at Charlton Heston’s LA home, demanding he look at a picture of a young girl killed by a gun and *touchingly* placing said picture on the steps of Heston’s house so the camera can find just the right level of poignancy. In this latest film, Moore does seem to linger a little too long on weeping family members being evicted and in one ill-advised scene tells a window that her husband is referred to as a “dead peasant” in a legal document (what is the point here? It is obvious that the term is insulting when we first hear and we gain nothing from making a widow cry about it). Yet, despite a few such moments, ‘Capitalism’ is easily the least mawkish Moore has been and is therefore his most likeable and effective film to date.
However, to focus on this criticism of Moore, is really to sell the film short. There are so many bits where it completely works, and entertains whilst being really informative and persuasive. For example, the documents that Moore highlights relating to a corporate life-insurance scheme (relating to the aforementioned “dead peasants”) are astounding, as is the leaked memo from one giant corporation, which openly speaks of the US as a “plutonomy”, a nation controlled by the wealthy for the benefit of the wealthy (and suggests how to keep it that way). There is also a fantastic sequence that links the rise of Reagan to product placement and advertising, and suggests he was brought in (and controlled) by Wall Street after Jimmy Carter went off-message in regards to consumer culture. I’m sure there are a great many who would contest this theory, and I’m sure the truth is less simplistic, but Moore makes a really compelling case for his argument here. It is also a particular joy to see Moore take the two of the biggest tools in justifying the status quo in American politics – Christianity and patriotism – and to turn them against capitalism, interviewing a Bishop who sees capitalism as a sin, and looking at the constitution to show how un-American capitalism really is, and how the document seems socialist.
It is great to see a film like ‘Sleep Furiously’ (one of my favourite films of last year) and to be given an objective, patient and mannered look at a time and place. But it is equally good to see something this argumentative, which is clearly passionately engaged with its subject. I left the cinema feeling invigorated, feeling I should be more politically active (as with age the apathy has already slowly started to set in) and that must be a good thing. ‘Capitalism’ is a fiery essay, delivered by a master propagandist and manipulator, but it is never less than compelling and exciting, and is a skilful piece of documentary filmmaking. Even if you come away unconvinced or even angered by Moore’s opinions, I for one am very glad he is airing them in this way. Especially on this subject which usually goes un-discussed, yet has such total and invisible control over our everyday lives. The fact that Moore can turn this discussion into populist entertainment is his unique gift and I for one applaud him for it.
'Capitalism: A Love Story' is rated '12a' by the BBFC and can be seen at the Duke of York's Picturehouse in Brighton everyday up to Thursday the 4th of March.
A former freelance film journalist based in Brighton, I have written contributions to The Daily Telegraph and several websites, provided occasional analysis for BBC Radio Sussex and Radio Reverb, and recently I've been involved with several volumes published by Intellect Books.
I've also written about video games for GamesIndustry.biz.
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