2011 MSPIFF Journal #2/3

Also: 2011 MSPIFF Journal #1

The Interrupters 
Grade: A
Opens in Minneapolis later this summer

My expectations were sky high for the latest documentary from Steve James (Hoop Dreams), and he went ahead and soared past them. The Interrupters is a harrowing journey into the everyday lives of Chicagoans desperately trying to keep the city's troubled teens from killing each other. The film's main subjects are "violence interrupters" who work for CeaseFire, a nonprofit dedicated to stopping street violence, most often in the form of shootings, by simply trying to verbally mediate between conflicting parties. In other words, telling gang members to put down their guns and just play nice with each other. Sound ridiculous? Well, turns out it's a fairly effective strategy, primarily because most of the interrupters are themselves ex-cons and former gang members. They know the game, and they know where and when they can be most effective in stopping another senseless murder before it happens. Obviously it's still an incredibly difficult task, and the film does an outstanding job balancing the successes with the ongoing challenges. It's not a feel-good documentary by any means, yet the the hope and optimism demonstrated by the interrupters cannot be denied.

A Screaming Man
Grade: B+

Despite a few blips on the radar, I remain convinced that Latin America and Africa are greatly underrepresented on the local film scene (and the national and global film scenes, for that matter), so I jumped at the chance to see A Screaming Man, winner of a special jury prize at Cannes last year. More importantly, it caught my eye as the latest film from Chadian director Mahamat-Saleh Haroun, who helmed Dry Season, possibly my favorite film of MSPIFF in 2008 (queue it up). The films are similar in many ways (and both star the gifted Youssouf Djaoro), with really the main difference being that A Screaming Man examines a father's conflicted emotions about a son, instead of a son's conflicted emotions about a father. The civil war serves as the background setting once again, but the brilliance of Haroun's story is that it's not really about war, but about decisions between family and career, and the transition between generations. A Screaming Man didn't bowl me over as much as Dry Season, but it's nonetheless troubling to think that we miss out on so many films like this every year.

The Hedgehog 
Grade: B+
Opens in Minneapolis later this summer

Not having read Muriel Barbery's celebrated novel, The Elegance of the Hedgehog, I was pretty shocked at the opening narration from the film's young protagonist, Paloma, in which she announces, quite seriously, that she's planning to kill herself on her next birthday. In fact, that first minute cast a pretty disturbing pall over the rest of the movie, turning what might have been a really touching romantic dramedy into an occasionally uncomfortable meditation on death and loneliness. One could argue that the dramatic thread grounded the story in reality and provided for deeper emotional access, but I just felt on edge for a good part of the film. If its comedy was meant to be dark, I guess it was a little too dark for my taste. That said, The Hedgehog is still consistently watchable and even absorbing; nearly every scene takes place in just a few rooms and I felt immersed in a Parisian microcosm. It's also superbly acted and skips along at a nice pace until, again, a dose of mild depression to send you out. See it if you're in the mood for a good French film, just don't go in with the light-hearted expectations that I did.

2011 MSPIFF Journal #1/3

170 200+ Films in 3 Weeks - How many could you possible see?

Naturally, each of the first three films I saw at MSPIFF were documentaries, not only because I have an affinity for them but also because there are literally dozens of documentaries in this year's fest, which is breaking its own record for number of films and number of days. Why the annual obsession with making MSPIFF bigger and longer than ever before, I don't know - by my elementary arithmetic, if you attended for 22 days straight and saw 4 films each day, you would still see fewer than half the number of films in the catalog.

Nevertheless, there's something to be said for offering something for every movie fan, even if that means every movie fan. And considering the number of films on tap, the revived Film Society of Minneapolis-St. Paul has done a stellar job with the organization of the festival. Lines have been smooth and start times punctual, and in this third year at the St. Anthony venue, my opinion has been cemented that it's the perfect location for the festival: easy freeway access, free parking, and sufficient nearby cafes/restaurants (plus free Punch pizza with every ticket stub again?!). Not much more you can ask for - even some of the surly theater staff from last year appear to have left.

Here's a rundown on the three I saw last week:

Page One: A Year Inside the New York Times 
Grade: B+
Opens at the Uptown in July

A meaty if not meandering documentary, Page One takes us behind the scenes of the Media Desk at the New York Times, which is tasked with covering the very state of print journalism itself. It's an interesting angle for director Andrew Rossi to take on this story, and it goes some way in refuting the "rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic" analogy about the state of legacy media in the 21st century. You leave the film convinced the that The Times, and presumably other news institutions, are finally begin to adapt not just in the way subscribers access content (i.e., the new pay wall they recently installed on their website), but in the way we think about the journalists providing that content. Rossi profiles people like Minneapolis native David Carr (whose improbable journey to The Times newsroom didn't get enough attention in either the film or the Q & A with Carr and Rossi after the opening night screening) and Brian Stelter, a blogger-turned-journalist who is the face of an impressive new generation of reporters at The Times. All that said, Page One never really develops a cohesive narrative, and the viewing experience is like reading the NYT Twitter feed, with scattered pieces of stories out of order and often out of context. Nonetheless, for subscribers like me (Sunday edition only), it's a fascinating look inside the news machine.

Nostalgia for the Light
Grade: A

Thought-provoking, awe-inspiring, and tragic, Patricio Guzmán's Nostalgia for the Light is a superb feat of filmmaking, weaving together history, astronomy, and philosophy in a meditation on selective memory and the skeletons in Chile's closet. Centered in the Atacama Desert (site of the miraculous mine rescue of 2010), the film contrasts the desert's world-class astronomy facilities with the horrifying secrets that are buried in the ground around them, mostly in the form of skeletal remains of victims of the Pinochet dictatorship. While professors and scientists turn their eyes heavenward, a small group of women pick through the dust and dirt in a search for their relatives that has lasted 30 years. Both parties are in search of the past, and both have seemingly infinite horizons through which to carefully comb. The only difference is, the astronomers are working with the full support of the Chilean government, with every resource at their disposal. The women? They're mostly left alone in the hope that they will eventually die off, and take their talk of torture and injustice along with them. The film is not an indictment of Chile in this sense (Guzman waxes poetically about his country and shows it in an astonishingly beautiful light), but simply a troubling comparison between mankind's search for meaning in the stars, and mankind's search for redemption and forgiveness here on earth.

Kinshasa Symphony 
Grade: B+

The main challenge with Claus Wischmann and Martin Baer's Kinshasa Symphony is avoiding the temptation to simply write it off as a clichéd tearjerker. The title alone basically tells you what you're in for - an inspiring story about people making beautiful music against the odds in one of the world's most impoverished countries. What else would you expect? Indeed, it's exactly that and not much more, but in turning the lens on several compelling members of the orchestra and underscoring the challenges they face on a daily basis (to the tune of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony), the film ultimitaely does transcend expectations. What's missing, at least for prodding viewers like me, is some context about what exactly is going on in the background in Kinshasa, a city of 10 million people in arguably Africa's most tumultuous country, the Democratic Republic of the Congo. Granted, I came in about five minutes late, but I didn't get the full picture of the city, country, and culture that I was hoping for. But maybe that's a minor complaint, as the film is not meant to be a political or social commentary but simply a tribute to these unbelievably determined musicians. And in that respect, Kinshasa Symphony is music to the ears, eyes, and soul.

Bittersweet: The Dark Side of Chocolate

If you're alone (or with other single friends) this Valentine's Day and are seeking the perfect downer for the occasion, look no further than The Dark Side of Chocolate. While millions of couples will express their love for each other with extravagantly wrapped boxes of candied cocoa of unknown origin, you can rest easy that you're not supporting what amounts to slave labor in regions of West Africa.

To be sure, for most people The Dark Side of Chocolate will be more personal and thus more disturbing than a documentary about the ugly underbelly of, say, the dried fruit industry. After all, chocolate is a globally traded commodity (or rather, cocoa is), a $50 billion/year worldwide business, and a veritable drug for women everywhere - and a few men, too, including me.

Concerned and curious about rumors of child labor on cocoa plantations in Ivory Coast, intrepid Danish journalist Miki Mistrati set off with a hidden camera and a bag full of questions about the source of the precious cocoa used by the world's leading chocolate manufacturers (The Hershey Company, Mars, Cadbury, Nestlé, and others). What he would find, tragically, is that children as young as seven years old are clearly being trafficked from neighboring countries to work in cocoa plantations for little to no pay. If the lack of an actual war prevents your favorite confection from being considered "conflict" chocolate, you should still feel conflicted about eating it.

Ousmane Sembene: African Stories, Nov. 5-20 @ the Walker

While the MSP Asian Film Festival runs during the next 10 days at St. Anthony Main, the Walker is delivering a series of films that are distinctive if only because an MSP African Film Festival is probably still a long, long way off.

Co-presented by the University of Minnesota's Office of International Program, the Walker presents "Ousmane Sembene: African Stories", a retrospective of nine feature films from the Senegalese artist The New Yorker called "one of the world's greatest political filmmakers".

I've only seen Moolaadé (2004), Sembene's award-winning critical portrait of female genital mutilation (read a great review by a blogging pal), but it left an impression on me, to say the least. Here is the official description of the series, followed by the full schedule and selected trailers:

"Africa, a continent full of stories both old and new, has over the last half century been affected by enormous political, social, and ecological change. Since shedding its long period of colonialism, it has seen newly formed governments, revived countries, and tribal alliances placed under severe pressure by conflicts over resources, foreign intervention, social customs, and religious differences. Perhaps no filmmaker captured these transformations better than Ousmane Sembene, the Senegalese artist who turned his own literature into film and became known as the father of African cinema. His career began in the years directly following Senegal’s independence and continued until 2006. The Walker is pleased to show all nine of his feature films, which range from portraits of immigrants to satires to period films based on events ignored or repressed by non-Africans.

MSPIFF 2010: Week 2 Roundup

The final week of MSPIFF 2010 (yes, the one that ended ten days ago...) proved alternately frustrating and fulfilling. I only made it to an additional four films, easily amassing my lowest total since I moved back to Minnesota four years ago. There was a long list of films that I missed, but I prefer to reflect on the fact that nothing I saw was outright terrible.
 

My Only Sunshine - Plans to see the sold-out Today's Special were foiled on a packed-to-the-gills Friday night, so we opted for a Turkish film, My Only Sunshine (an appropriate choice as we'll be on our honeymoon in Turkey in just a few weeks). As breathtaking and vivid as the cinematography was, My Only Sunshine does not make Istanbul a particularly appealing place; maybe compare it to New York City as seen in Chop Shop. On the other hand, it was fascinating to observe the environment and cultural quirks of Istanbul that I'm sure we won't see on our brief and touristy stop to the teeming seaside city of 12 million people. My Only Sunshine is a slice-of-life story as experienced by Hayat (Elit Iscan), an adolescent girl living with her troubled father and dying grandfather (the effects of emphysema caused by smoking have truly never been captured on film as they are captured here). You expect it to develop into a warm coming-of-age tale, but despite a few laughs and a completely tacked-on happy ending, it's an altogether bleak depiction of a lost childhood in Istanbul. Nonetheless, I remained engaged throughout and the production had the decidedly "foreign film" feel that I specifically seek at these festivals.

Taking It Home: Garbage Dreams

Don't miss Garbage Dreams on PBS' Independent Lens this April 27th

I'm borderline-OCD about a few things in my life (or maybe more than a "few" things, depending who you ask), and one of those things is taking out the trash - especially trash containing food scraps. I just can't stand the smell when food begins to go bad after a day or two at room temperature, so the bag must be deposited outside in the dumpster (or composted, though I admit I'm behind the curve on that) as soon as possible, even if it isn't filled to the top.

The other day at work I was nearly brought to my knees by a stench emanating from the garbage can in our office kitchen. I hightailed it out of there, hoping that someone would be brave enough (you don't have a custodial staff at small nonprofits) to eliminate this hazardous waste before it caused permanent olfactory damage for anyone in a 50 foot radius.

Alas, when I arrived at work the next morning and went to pour myself a cup of coffee, the smell in the kitchen was, in a word, unholy. I have a very keen nose and tolerate a lot of offensive scents on a daily basis, but I honestly haven't smelled something this nauseating in I can't remember how long (the formaldehyde-soaked human cadavers I dissected in college smelled like roses in comparison). I am truly convinced that whatever was in there was either decomposing or rotting alive; this was not simply someone's day-old beef with broccoli.

HBO Presents: Reporter, with Nicholas Kristof of the New York Times

This Thursday, February 18, at 9.30pm ET/PT, HBO Documentary Films will premiere a new feature-length documentary, Reporter, profiling the work of intrepid New York Times reporter Nicholas Kristof. As a Sunday subscriber to the times for the past few years, I've read a number of Kristof's columns with datelines in places including Darfur, Pakistan, and the Congo. To describe his columns as often stomach-churning would be putting it mildly; he often uses extremely descriptive language while reporting on some of the worst atrocities you could ever imagine. Take his column from two weeks ago as an example.

Reporter, which was directed by filmmaker Eric Daniel Metzgar, chronicles Kristof as he follows the Hutu/Tutsi conflict in Rwanda as it spills over the border into neighboring Congo. According the HBO, Reporter "tells the story of a vanishing breed of journalists who bear witness to global catastrophes, breathing life into sobering statistics one country at a time, one story at a time, one typed word at a time."

Indeed, this is one boots-on-the-ground, old-school reporter who has earned his frequent flier miles. I also appreciate that he has done a lot of work with educating college students about these issues.

Some of the stories that will be told in Reporter include:

Taking It Home: Invictus

("Taking It Home" is an alternative review style in which I share my thoughts on a movie's themes and how they may relate to my life, while focusing less on the acting, writing, technical aspects, or even plot of the film. It's a collection of the ideas I took home, "because the movie experience shouldn't end in the theater".)

More influential than any stump speech a politician could make... 

While watching Clint Eastwood's Invictus I was reminded of a little-seen documentary a few years ago about the space race. The astronauts interviewed in In the Shadow of the Moon gave fascinating and inspiring accounts of their experience with the outer limits, but the most lasting impression I have is their description of what was happening back here on Earth. As we Americans are reminded every summer, after years of competing with the Soviets to get a man on the Moon, the United States reached the finish line first, on July 20, 1969. We would go on to dominate space exploration for the next generation and ultimately to the present day.

But what wasn't clear to me until In the Shadow of the Moon, and what was reinforced by Invictus, is just how much collective pride a population can gain from what is, on the surface, a meaningless competition. Despite the social and political turmoil of 1969, for example, the United States experienced a brief period of pure, unadulterated joy because we beat the Soviets at a massive global game (more interestingly, according to the film, this American achievement was celebrated around the globe, and goodwill toward the United States peaked at a level not reached again until 9/12/01). The triumph of the South African National Rugby Team might pale in comparison on a global scale, but Invictus still portrays the Springboks' 1995 World Cup victory as an event almost as important as the moon landing - and ultimately more important than the U.S. Men's Hockey Team's 1980 "Miracle on Ice" (most recently revisited in 2004's Miracle).

You may be thinking, "Come on, sports are unimportant in the grand scheme of things and a distracting waste of time and money that could spend on much more important issues!". Tell that to Nelson Mandela (in fact many of his advisors did, as we see in the film). To take nothing away from Mandela's achievement as a black man being elected president in a racially segregated country after half a lifetime in prison, the Boks' World Cup victory was just as important to his political success - even more so, if I may be so bold.

Living in Emergency: A Nationwide Screening and Discussion on Monday, December 14

Recently shortlisted for an Oscar, you have the rare chance to see the film and watch a live panel discussion moderated by Elizabeth Vargas

Soon after watching Mark Hopkins' award-winning documentary, Living in Emergency: Stories of Doctors Without Borders, I came across yet another talking heads debate on cable television about U.S. health care reform: blah, blah, blah, premiums, plans, policies, programs, and of course, the nefarious "public option". The irony was tragic considering I'd just learned that 2 billion people worldwide have no option, as in no access to essential medical care. This may not be news to many people with an eye on global issues, but Living in Emergency doesn't dwell on mind-boggling statistics like that because it's not really about the patients at all. It's about the doctors who volunteer to risk their sanity, careers, marriages, and even their lives to help alleviate suffering in the most dangerous environments on earth.

The four doctors profiled in Living in Emergency all work for Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF/"Doctors Without Borders"), the Paris-founded, Nobel Peace Prize-winning NGO that provides free medical care annually to 10 million people in more than 70 sites worldwide - most of them previously, or too often currently, ravaged by war.

These are the kinds of settings where doctors become chain smokers. Where doctors are encouraged to have sex frequently, because when you're losing patients day in and day out, sex represents life. Where doctors end up questioning their career choice and doubting their own sense of self-efficacy. Where the Hippocratic Oath is a quaint, tidy motto.

The film marks the first time MSF has given a documentary crew uncensored access to its field sites, however Living in Emergency was not produced by MSF, and it could hardly be considered a glossy recruiting video to show to idealistic medical students and public health professionals (they might not be excited at the idea of wearing headlamps to treat patients in the dark). But they are probably the first people who should see it, followed by Americans with any vested interest in international relations and/or our current health care debate. It is a hard film to watch (e.g., very graphic surgical scenes and war footage) but an important one, and its recent inclusion on the Oscar shortlist for Best Documentary Feature is deserved.

Next Monday, December 14, MSF will be teaming up with Fathom Events and ABC's Elizabeth Vargas for a nationwide screening and live post-screening discussion with the film's subjects. The one-night event will be held in New York City and streamed live in more than 440 participating theaters (click here for theaters in Minnesota). For this night, at least, we should be humbly grateful for the access to health care that we have in this country.

REVIEW: Milking the Rhino

Picture the last nature documentary you saw about the African bush: bilbao trees, tall grasses, lush jungle, parched desert, and wildlife ranging from impalas to elephants, zebras to giraffes. If it's anything like the last one I saw, the animals appeared to be living in an untouched paradise.

"The reality is that if you just turn the camera around, you have people that live just next to this wildlife," explains a national park director in Milking the Rhino, a fascinating documentary filmed over three years about the tumultuous relationship between humans and animals in post-colonial Africa. Produced by Kartemquin Films (Hoop Dreams, The New Americans) and directed by David E. Simpson, it is a content rich film that should forever change the way you watch a nature documentary or, if you can afford it, participate in an African safari. As one of the year's best and most thought-provoking documentaries, it's hard to even know where to begin talking about all of the issues raised in Milking the Rhino. So while I'll attempt to lay out some of its key points, I really recommend that you take the time to sit down and watch it.

Class of '84 Blogathon: The Gods Must Be Crazy

[This remembrance is brought to you as part of Joe Valdez's Class of '84 Blogathon at This Distracted Globe, a celebration of films from on the 25th anniversary of what many people consider the best film year of a generation.]

There are few movies that define the period in which they were made as much as the bizarre docucomedy The Gods Must Be Crazy. The story was officially set in the present day of the early 80's, but the footage of the generic city where "civilized man" lived, and even more so the music that backed this footage, inadvertently trapped the movie in a very, very specific time period (check out the first 10 minutes I've included here to jog your memory).

The Gods Must Be Crazy was actually produced in South Africa in 1980 but not shown in the U.S. until 1982, and even then in very limited release. Positive international word-of-mouth ended up bringing the movie back to the U.S. in 1984, when it opened in wide release and pulled in $30 million at the box office. So despite its birthdate I'm including it here because 1984 was the year it really made its impact in the United States.

Taking It Home: The Battle of Algiers

("Taking It Home" is an alternative review style in which I share my thoughts on a movie's themes and how they may relate to my life, while focusing less on the acting, writing, technical aspects, or even plot of the film. It's a collection of the ideas I took home, "because the movie experience shouldn't end in the theater".)

How often has this scene played out in real life in Baghdad in recent years?

One of the benefits of my ignorance of film history is that I get to enjoy watching so many classics for the first time, often without any idea of what I'm going to experience, for better or for worse. Picking up on a tip from Rick Olson at Coosa Creek Cinema last December, I sought out the Battle of Algiers. And I'm here to report, after a period of bewildered shock, that it's one of the greatest films I've ever seen.

I must shamefully admit that going against all film etiquette and common sense...I didn't watch this in one sitting (do as I say, not as I do). I started it way too late one night and, though completely engrossed I stopped it a natural pause about halfway through, before resuming a few nights later. This may have been for the best anyway, as there are so many courses served in this meal that a pause for digestion is probably appropriate. As such, this is the kind of film that almost demands a second viewing.

Regardless of how much you know or want to know about the French occupation of Algeria, this movie is required viewing because of the literally breathtaking similarities between that situation and the current American situation in Iraq. The use of torture, the U.N. involvement, the urban warfare, the tactics of insurgents, and on and on and on and on. Not since watching The Fog of War again a few years ago have been so floored by the idea of history repeating itself.

Apart from the striking historical relevancy, there are few other really fascinating aspects to The Battle of Algiers. For starters, it's based on "Souvenirs de la Bataille d'Alger", the book written in prison by Saadi Yacef, a former leader in the National Liberation Front (FLN). So the historical account, while somewhat one-sided, is accurate and offers fascinating insights into the motives behind an insurgency. Above all of this, Yacef himself stars in the movie as the leader of the FLN!

Yes, filmed on location in Algiers only a few years after the events it portrays took place, The Battle of Algiers exists as an almost delayed-time documentary; nearly all of the people on screen actually lived through the violent years of the French occupation. The combination of the physical location (and lack of a need for a production designer), the authenticity of the actors and extras, and the incredibly gripping cinematography makes for a stunning historical record, almost better, at least visually, than an actual documentary could have produced.

Then there's the haunting, lingering, poignant, simply unforgettable score by the legendary Ennio Morricone, which inexplicably did not receive one of the three Oscar nominations garnered by The Battle of Algiers (Director, Original Screenplay, and Foreign Film). You might also recognize the score from its use in the recent Inglourious Basterds, added for no other reason than for Tarantino to "pay homage" to yet another classic film.

I can forgive Tarantino for boasting about his film knowledge, but I can't forgive another note of trivia about this movie. As you can see from the text in the trailer below (which was produced in 2004 for the re-release of the film), The Battle of Algiers was screened at the Pentagon during the early months of the Iraq War (August 27, 2003, to be exact). The idea was, one would imagine, to show the U.S. military brass what not to do in Iraq. A flier was made for the screening, which was attended by about 40 military and civilian experts.

It read as follows:

"How to win a battle against terrorism and lose the war of ideas. Children shoot soldiers at point-blank range. Women plant bombs in cafes. Soon the entire Arab population builds to a mad fervor. Sound familiar? The French have a plan. It succeeds tactically, but fails strategically. To understand why, come to a rare showing of this film."

The following week in the New York Times, Michael Kaufman analyzed the significance of this screening. Think about it - the mightiest military in the world is possibly developing their strategy based on a movie. I don't think that's inherently wrong, it just goes to show the power of film. And in the case of Iraq it was probably a good idea; as Kaufman astutely observed, "At the moment it is hard to specify exactly how the Algerian experience and the burden of the film apply to the situation in Iraq, but as the flier for the Pentagon showing suggested, the conditions that the French faced in Algeria are similar to those the United States is finding in Iraq."

That's painfully obvious to us now, but keep in mind it really was not at the time. This was only six months after Saddam's statue was toppled, only five months after President Bush declared "Mission Accomplished". So the question then becomes, if both the public and the U.S. military agreed that they were facing an identical situation at that point in the war (before Abu Ghraib, before Fallujah, before the Iraq Study Group, before the surge), why did they continue to follow the French strategy?

After all, though the French eventually won The Battle of Algiers, they ultimately lost the war two years later after a spontaneous and peaceful uprising by the Algerian citizens. The old saying of "win the battle but lose the war" could not better describe what happened. I know it's easy to scoff at the U.S. military's decisions as we enter the middle of the seventh year of this war, but rewind back to late 2003 and it's still baffling to consider why they followed a historical precedent that ultimately failed. What made them think they could achieve a different outcome? (There is a Wikipedia entry comparing the two situations if you're interested.)

It's not meant to be a rhetorical question or a smug criticism. I'm honestly curious as to how the U.S. military incorporated the lessons from The Battle of Algiers into the Iraq War strategy.

If you have not seen this movie, immediately add it to your Netflix queue. If you've been following along with the Iraq War since 2003 you'll be shocked and possibly outraged. If you haven't been following along, well consider this a crash course in what's happened - for the second time.

What did you take home?

REVIEW: District 9 (B)

How it pains me to not be writing a "Taking It Home" review of Neill Blomkamp's District 9, a movie that I fell in love with at first description earlier this year, but became less and less and less excited for as the date neared and I realized that what I thought was going to be about a tale of South Africa was really a bam-pow sci-fi flick about aliens (in South Africa, yes, but about aliens nonetheless).

As clever and "cool" as it was, at the end of the day this movie offered much less meaning and insight than what I originally hoped for, or even what I expected from the brilliant first 15 minutes (or, had I seen it beforehand, what I would have expected from the film's inspiration, Blomkamp's Alive in Joburg).

But still, on a purely cinematic level I'm still tempted to call District 9 one of the most entertaining movies of this so-far lackluster year, and one that I'd much rather watch again over Star Trek (what happened to all of the "Best of 2009" cries for that, by the way?). Yes, District 9 is a well-acted, mostly fast-paced story framed in a unique setting, and the visual effects and use of CGI are the best I've seen since The Golden Compass a couple years ago. Whether that last point means awards are in order, we'll just have to see - but if so they'll be the only awards the movie deserves...

Grabbing you right from the get-go with the currently trendy and rather unnecessary fake documentary/verite style, District 9 introduces us to an alternative Johannesburg in 2010, decades after a mysterious UFO stopped in mid-air over the city. In it were countless weak, starving aliens (heretofore known as "prawns", the derogatory term applied to them), who were initially treated with compassionate care but soon wore out their welcome when it became obvious that they were stranded for good. Like proverbial in-laws.

The prawns were thus forced to live in District 9, a set-aside area of the city cut off from social services and human society. As with the black population only forty years ago, they were treated with hostility and hatred by pubic officials like Wikus van de Merwe (Sharlto Copley), a bureaucrat's bureaucrat heading up a Multi-National United (MNU) prawn relocation unit. He mugs for the camera and shows us District 9 like an excited child would show us his treehouse; his idea of an adrenaline rush is torching a shed full of prawn eggs.

As Wikus leads an effort to relocate the prawns to District 10 (a newly constructed refugee camp far from the city, and the likely location of the guaranteed sequel), an accident causes a DNA transfer in him that will in the course of about a week turn him into a prawn - if he survives at all. The remainder of the movie, then, is the story of Wikus vs. the prawns vs. a nasty bald-headed villain (nasty because he's bald-headed) vs. cannibalistic Nigerian gangsters lording over District 9 vs. the MNU front office vs. the world.

In short, it ends as a brilliantly rendered, eye-poppingly well-designed, visually intense action-packed extravaganza that has maybe something to do with humanity's relation to aliens, but almost nothing to do with apartheid, South Africa, the United Nations ("MNU"), or, let's be honest, reality. This whole thing is a set-up, and I'm not falling for it.

How exactly would a bulletproof vest protect against alien weaponry?

I shouldn't be discussing this movie without at some point explaining my fascination for the country in which it's set. As I may or may not have shared before, The Power of One is unconditionally and unquestionably my favorite movie of all time. It's the movie that, when I saw it for the first time as a boy, forever changed my view of the world, myself, and movies (which I would not really devote myself to for another decade). Not surprisingly, since then I've been automatically captivated by anything dealing with the extraordinarily rich history and culture of South Africa (fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, I still have the heavy-handedness of Clint Eastwood's Invictus to provide my South Africa fix in 2009).

Understanding this will shed some light on why I was disappointed by how quickly District 9 abandoned its fantastically juicy set-up and devolved into an alien action thriller (with an ending and villain identical to Daniel Craig in The Power of One, no less!), leaving all kinds of political and racial themes on the table for another, likely worse movie to examine. As Blomkamp, a white South African who grew up in Johannesburg, admits, "No allegories, no metaphors, nothing. Just science fiction in Joburg...There's no message, per se, that I'm trying to get across with the movie. It's rather that I want to present science fiction, and put it in the environment that affected me."

Ahhh, fair enough, I guess, but it still stings to hear him add in another interview that he backed off on exploring the social issues because it "wouldn't be entertaining on a popcorn level." Come on, man, don't leave me hanging with a tease like that. Just because Peter Jackson got excited about Alive in Joburg and wanted to show off his CGI prowess, it didn't mean you had to abandon all of the meaning. Well, maybe it did since he was footing the bill, but still, the lack of thematic depth in District 9 and the cliche-ridden finale that left us puffed up for a sequel was not what I was expecting following the terrific first 15 minutes.

Why not talk straight about the fact that a white South African anti-hero doesn't learn his lesson about prejudice? Why not talk straight about the fact that the South African blacks are mistreating the prawns in the same way that they themselves were treated for generations? Why not explore the existence of the MNU as the operating arm of a massive, global military-industrial complex? Why not have one of the prawns rise as a Nelson Mandela or Steve Biko-type hero? Wouldn't be "popcorn"-friendly, I suppose, so best to leave all that background stuff securely in the background.

Alive in Joburg - now that would have been a cool movie...

But enough with the whining and moaning, because of all the action-packed summer movies that allow you to shut off your brain for a while, I suppose I should be glad that District 9 is the only one I've seen. I'm guessing, for example, that it features much better acting than Transformers 2, Harry Potter, or G.I. Joe. Sharlto Copley was a real find to play the part of Wikus, and although I won't compare his acting chops to Daniel Day-Lewis, I think he'd be a fine choice to actually play Daniel Day-Lewis.

And so, the acting and the action and the awesomeness allow District 9 to stand out in its genre, even if it never rises above its genre. I think that's where I'd like to end up with all of these schizophrenic thoughts, on the bright side of things. I didn't care for the execution of District 9 but I loved the idea, and I acknowledge that somewhere in there is the potential for meaningful discussion, even if it's tucked away and eventually out of sight behind goo, guns, and gadgets.

Grade:
Writing - 7
Acting - 9
Production - 9
Emotional Impact - 8
Music - 5
Social Significance - 4

Total: 42/50= 84% = B


And now...fun with nitpicking, because any movie considered the best ever deserves a closer look:

- District 9 is an original story, alright, but maybe only because no one has successfully combined the following movies using this formula: Star Wars + Children of Men + E.T. + Independence Day + The Power of One + Black Hawk Down + Jerusalema + Flight of the Navigator + War of the Worlds + Contact + Iron Man + Cloverfield

- Is it reasonable to believe that 1 million aliens with superior intelligence, strength, technology and weaponry would not be able to free themselves from their oppressors, or at least establish themselves more forcefully as legitimate immigrants? I don't think so.

- Come on, his name was "Christopher Johnson"? No explanation? From what I know about District Six, people were not given WASPy names as part of their forced relocation, but somebody correct me if I'm wrong.

- Why did it take 20 years for Christopher and his son to find a can of fluid on the ground? What was that, anyway, and how was that the key to their salvation? Way too convenient for my taste and it led to the only eye-rolling moment I had of the movie, when Christopher had to tell Wikus about the rarity of the stuff in the canister.

- Speaking of which, Wikus' ability to fluently communicate with Christopher was about as nonsensical as Luke Skywalker's ability to communicate with R2-D2.

- If the prawns and humans were having inter-species sex for so many years, why would Wikus be the first person to survive a DNA transfer? Is he supposed to represent a "chosen one"? I don't like that idea.

- Regarding the portrayal of Nigerians as cannibalistic savages (otherwise known as the "Armond White issue"), Blomkamp says in that earlier interview: "Sure, I'm totally aware of that. I know those buttons are going to be pushed. Unfortunately, that's the reality of it, and it doesn't matter how politically correct or politically incorrect you are. The bottom line is that there are huge Nigerian crime syndicates in Johannesburg. I wanted the film to feel real, to feel grounded, and I was going to incorporate as much of contemporary South Africa as I wanted to, and that's just how it is." So, wait, you're telling me that Johannesburg is swarming with cannibalistic Nigerians who sell cat food, have no regard for life and generally exist as evil scum in human form? "That's just how it is"? Hope they get things in order before the World Cup...

- I'm not understanding the way in which the carcasses in the MNU laboratory were handled. Sometimes people are wearing masks, sometimes things are in bags, sometimes it's just an open room. Is this place sanitary, and wouldn't there be a host of alien diseases that humans couldn't withstand?

- The prawns are not being exploited or harvested or enslaved by the humans, right? They're a cancer that people want to get rid of and everybody knows it. So why wouldn't everyone - humans and prawns alike - be committed full time to simply finding the fuel that would allow them to return home, no hard feelings on either end? If a guy parks on your front yard after running out of gas, would you both just accept that the guy has to live there for 20 years, and would you both never consider the idea of, hmm, finding more gas?

- In operating the prawn gun/robot/walker thing, did it become an actual extension of Wikus' body? If not, why did bullets hitting the metal exoskeleton disable him so severely? Wouldn't he have been protected in that?

- If the fuel they had left was enough to power the mothership, why waste time trying to get the little pod ship off the ground? Doesn't seem like that pod was very fuel-efficient.

- When Christopher is beaten by the MNU agents upon his arrest, why is his battered head and eye oozing with red blood? I thought everything that came out of them was black? Seems like it was a cheap way for us to see Christopher as a human. In fact, maybe he was a human - yes, he was formerly a human and underwent the same transformation as Wikus, right? It sure seemed like he became much more human (especially on an emotional level) as Wikus became more alien.

- Speaking of which, could these prawns have been any more anatomically similar to humans? Their bone and muscle structure, their vocal communication, their upright, two-legged gait, their digestive systems (urinating), their sexual organs (urinating while standing?), their heads and hands - for all intents and purposes they were simply primates with thick skin. Is that the extent of the diversity of intelligent life in the universe?

- When the MNU headquarters are blown up from within and the incident is passed off as a "terrorist attack", how does the spokesperson get away with simply saying they've taken care of it, it's no big deal and it's contained? Wouldn't this be the equivalent of the Pentagon being bombed?

- Hey, all you Slumdog Millionaire haters, answer me this: District 9 was filmed on location in the shantytowns of Joburg, and you can bet your self-righteous dollars that many of the people we see in these slums are still mired in abject poverty. Should Neill Blomkamp be chastised for portraying this gritty reality, and furthermore be held responsible for lifting anyone featured in the movie out of poverty? Why not? What's the difference?

Taking It Home: War Child

Emmanuel Jal's magnetic personality has captured the camera's attention for more than 20 years...

"Just about anybody you talk to in Southern Sudan, they have a mind-boggling story to tell. And had you lived through a quarter of it, you would be on your analyst's couch - weekly, for the rest of your life. They have lived through hell." - Ben Parker, Former UN Spokesman for Sudan, interviewed in War Child

In the fall of 2005, I was paging through the Arts section of my Sunday New York Times when this article by Will Hermes grabbed my attention. It was a profile about an aspiring rapper and former child soldier named Emmanuel Jal, hailing not from the tough streets of a marginalized American city, but from the unimaginably horrifying war zone of southern Sudan. Being both an armchair activist on the crisis in Darfur and a fan of socially conscious hip-hop, I found Jal's story shocking, depressing, and absolutely fascinating.

The article referenced his upcoming debut album, “Ceasefire”, which I immediately ordered from Amazon.com. Several days later I received a plastic disc that took me to a world full of eclectic sounds, languages, beats, harmonies, melodies, and instruments; a place where you wanted to simultaneously dance, cheer, and cry (his hit single "Gua" still breaks me up to this day). I shared Jal's story and music with friends and family, but nobody latched on with as much enthusiasm as me. (I almost jumped out of my seat when Jal's song "Baai" pumped through the theater speakers during Blood Diamond, and then again, recently, in What Are We Doing Here?.)

Undeterred, I dove deeper into the story of Sudan (outside of Darfur, about which I was already "aware"), watching documentaries about the Lost Boys, reading books (including the popular "What Is the What?" and the maligned "A Long Way Gone"), and attending lectures and screenings. The story became even more fascinating as I connected the dots and began to understand why the situation in Africa's largest country is so difficult to address on so many different levels. Deborah Scroggins' 2003 book, "Emma's War", was particularly helpful and, as a bonus, positively riveting (a Tony Scott-directed, Nicole Kidman-starring film adaptation has thankfully been delayed due to a request from the subject's family).

The book tells the story of Emma McCune, a British aid worker from an upper-class family who, in her early 20's, went to Sudan and eventually ended up marrying one of the highest-ranking Sudan People's Liberation Army (SPLA) commanders, Riek Machar, who is currently the Vice President of the autonomous region of Southern Sudan. In 1993, at the age of 29, a pregnant McCune was killed in a car accident in Nairobi, though not before she took a former child soldier named Emmanuel Jal under her wing and enrolled him in a local school (like I said, the connections are fascinating). Jal soon began to attract attention for his musical and rhyming talents, and his rising popularity in Nairobi eventually led to the release of "Ceasefire", worldwide tours, and international acclaim.

All of this eventually led me to C. Karim Chrobog's documentary, War Child, which I haven't yet discussed because of the context required to understand the full story it tells. For most people, War Child will be their first introduction to Emmanuel Jal, so I've simply attempted to provide some background information that, while addressed in the film, also explains my personal interest in it. War Child won the Audience Choice award at the 2008 Tribeca Film Festival, and its producers were kind enough to send me a screener recently since the film never received a wide theatrical release.

Opening with footage from Jal's visit to the Kakuma Refugee Camp where he spent part of his childhood, War Child gives a very brief historical overview of the devastating war in Sudan that took Jal's family from him - his father joined the SPLA, his mother was killed. Along with hundreds of other young boys, Jal walked to a refugee camp in Ethiopia, where they were trained as soldiers by the SPLA and essentially brainwashed into seeking revenge for what had happened to their families.

One of the most incredible moments in War Child comes during this time, when we actually see footage of a young Jal living in the training camp. The U.N. and National Geographic were sent to monitor the conditions there, and as a born leader, Jal was the peer-selected spokesperson for the group. He couldn't disclose the fact that they were being trained as soldiers, so most of the interviews are light questions about hope for the future. "I want a day that I can just live, so I can build my house where there aren't any problems that can destroy it," says Jal as he sits in his hut.

It's a potent, poignant moment, not only because we know that 20 years later he has achieved that dream, but also because we know that thousands of young child soldiers are still in the same situation today. So many people still living this nightmare, but even in Sudan, as John Prendergast of The Enough Project bluntly states in a conversation with Jal, "counter-terrorism trumps everything" as far as the West is concerned. Because the regime in Sudan is one of our strongest allies in the War on Terror, we'll just have to let the atrocities continue - so long as it's their terror, and not our terror.

Interspersed throughout the film we see clips of Jal in the present day, performing in concert, visiting schools, meeting with legislators, and eventually returning to Sudan for the first time in 15 years. He's a charming, handsome adult with a thousand-watt smile, and if you saw him strolling on the National Mall in an Abercrombie & Fitch hoodie (an outrageous irony that leaves me speechless), you'd have no idea what he's seen and experienced in his life. Speaking in front of a group of legislative staffers, he admits he doesn't actually know when he was born, but guesses he is in his mid to late 20's. An awkward, rueful silence falls until he jokes, "If you have a friend, tell her I'm available."

Because of this charm, and perhaps in spite of it, his story moves many in his audiences to tears. It may seem as if people are simply drawn to Jal's music out of pity or a bleeding heart sympathy, but anyone who listens to what he's saying will appreciate it for his positive message. Instead of dwelling on the tragedies of his past, for example, he delicately answers a group of American students asking he killed anyone in Sudan by performing a song and inviting them up to dance with him. "It's honest, it's no bitches, no blings, no hos - I hope people leave here and talk about it," says one new fan after a performance by Jal.

I'll admit that listening to his music requires patience and the understanding that he's usually not speaking in his native language (at least not on "WARchild"). As such, his wordplay and verbal dexterity in English isn't as impressive as other critically acclaimed artists, but what he lacks in panache he more than makes up for in purpose. While "Ceasefire" was a genuine, gentle plea for peace, Jal's latest album (also titled "WARchild") is a beaming, buoyant declaration of identity. Alternating bright, hopeful beats ("Baaki Wara") with tragic remembrances of his fallen friends ("Forced to Sin"), Jal also gets political this time, paying tribute to Hurricane Katrina victims on "Ninth Ward" ("America the Great became American the Clowned/While Americans drowned), and even calling out 50 Cent for his glorification of street violence and the effect it has on young boys.

Though catchy, these last two songs don't feel nearly as honest as his anguish on "Vagina": "It's unfair/when it comes to Africa, the world don't care...Pimps and thieves in Italian cars, suits/stop raping Africa like she's your prostitute...So Mr. Oil, Diamond and Gold miner/stop treating Mama Africa like a vagina." It's envelope-pushing, to be sure, but certainly convicting considering what Jal has been through. For that matter, just as powerful are Jal's impassioned, determined lyrics in songs like "Many Rivers to Cross" and "Stronger", where he declares, "I pledge allegiance to my motherland/That I'll do everything possible to make her stand."

"I believe I've survived/For a reason/To tell my story, to touch lives" - lyrics to "Warchild"

If you get the sense that I'm reviewing Jal's album more than Chrobog's film, it's because the power of the music is the essence of War Child, as well as the reason Emmanuel Jal became a subject of a film in the first place. I wouldn't recommend War Child as a primer for those hoping to learn about the background of the conflict in Sudan, but as an introduction to the life of this particular "war child", Emmanuel Jal, it's both illuminating and indelible.

Witnessing Jal visit his family for the first time in 15 years, you can't help but think about that kind of separation that exists in so many war-torn regions. Families completely shattered in an instant, not knowing if they will ever see each other again, and often never finding out. It's an idea that is unimaginable to me, and the fact that it happens with such frequency to this day is horrifying. But Jal takes it in stride, celebrating the safety of his sister and cherishing the adoration from his elderly grandmother, while also trying to reconcile the distance he still feels from his father. What makes this family reunion particularly moving is that Chrobog puts it toward the end of the film, when Jal also visits Emma's grave in Sudan. After hearing, reading, and now watching his story over the last few years, his visit back to his home country makes the people and places that shaped him much more real to his fans.

And this authenticity, credibility, substance - isn't it a welcome sight? There are no politicians, Hollywood celebrities, models, or pop stars (even Bono, bless his heart). In War Child, there is only Emmanuel Jal: a resilient voice of Africa, a dedicated voice for Africa.

Visit the official War Child website
Visit the War Child MySpace page
Check for (and request) an upcoming screening of War Child near you
Visit Emmanuel Jal's official website
Donate to Emmanuel Jal's Gua Africa and help him build Emma Academy
Read "Emma's War" by Deborah Scroggins

Buy the DVD or download a licensed copy of War Child

Buy Emmanual Jal's albums and book on Amazon.com:
Ceasefire (2005)
WARchild (2008)
"War Child: A Child Soldier's Story" (Published Feb. 2009)


Support other organizations working to end the use of child soldiers, including:
Coalition to Stop the Use of Child Soldiers
Human Rights Watch
Invisible Children
The Enough Project
Amnesty International USA

MSPIFF Weekend Roundup

The first few days of MSPIFF delivered in promising fashion; a few great movies down, a lot more to come this week and next. Since moving back to MN it's my first year attending as a paying customer instead of a volunteer, so I'm having to be a little more selective...or at least that's what I tell myself, though I'll spend close to $200 before this is over with.

Friday night's Film Goat gathering was a great way to kick-start the festival, so thanks to all those who showed up, including local media notables and also Louis Lapat, director of Win or Lose (which I will be reviewing soon). The Pracna patio was packed and the lines were out the door on what felt like a warm summer evening. I think we're on again for this coming Friday night, but as I'm hoping to see Letters to the President at 5:10 PM, I've got to talk to Kathie about maybe doing this one post instead of pre. More details to come on Thursday, when I'll make my recommendations for Week 2.

In the meantime, here's a quick rundown on the four that I saw over the weekend (none of which were on Friday; I made sure to see Hunger at the Walker before it's gone).


Munyurangabo (Liberation Day) (A-)
Rwanda (2007); Directed by Lee Isaac Chung

Somewhere in the second half of this movie I thought, "Man, this really feels familiar." A young teen in a war-torn African country who is seeking to avenge his father's death? Ah yes, it was the Chadian film Dry Season, reviewed in this space as part of MSPIFF last year. It's terrible that these stories are so prevalent in African cinema, but they reflect the reality of many of the continent's cultures struggling to recover from atrocities like the Rwandan genocide, and if nothing else they should serve as urgent reminders to those still involved with similar acts these days. Interestingly, Munyurangabo was not made by a Rwandan but by an American (who I found out later on Saturday is an acquaintance of my sister), and for his debut feature, Lee Isaac Chung appears to have been a deserving 2008 Independent Spirit Award nominee for the Someone to Watch award (that went to Ramin Bahrani - it's bizarre to think he was so unknown just a year ago). I'm considering a full review of Munyurangabo so I haven't said much here, but needless to say, I recommend catching it its second showing, Thursday, 4/30 at 5:45 PM. (Tickets)


Rumba (B)
Belgium/France (2008); Directed by Dominique Abel, Fiona Gordon, & Bruno Romy

The only film from the weekend that didn't live up to my expectations was this tragi-comedy about a pair of schoolteachers/moonlighting Latin dancers. A few set pieces are terrific and the stars/co-directors Dominique Abel and Fiona Gordon are perfectly wacky in their roles. But too many of the silent scenes dragged on for 10, 15, even 30 seconds too long, and the comedic momentum really never carried me from one gag to the next. It seemed as if they were short on jokes so they just stretched out each one they had as long as possible. Don't let this deter you from seeing it, however, if you appreciate physical comedy in the style of Mr. Bean. Rumba is light, harmless fun, but even at 77 minutes it seems a bit thin. One of the few comedies at MSPIFF, it will have its second showing Monday, 4/20, at 9:00 PM. (Tickets)


Blind Loves (A-)
Slovakia (2008); Directed by Juraj Lehotsky

One of the most utterly absorbing documentaries I've seen in recent years, Blind Loves is a fascinating profile of blind Slovakians and their experiences with love, life, and family. It won the C.I.C.A.E. Award at Cannes last year, and though I don't know what that means, let's assume it just means "excellent work". Describing this film is a challenge for a few reasons, but suffice to say it was not what I expected and it I'm glad for that. There is no narration or explanation; just observation, made incredibly engrossing because it's done with a steady camera, not the shaky hand-held video utilized in most documentaries. Were some scenes thus staged? Possibly, probably, but these four vignettes aren't meant to be records of events so much as they're meant to be character studies. I think Blind Loves deserves a full review, so watch this space, and in the meantime make sure to see it at its second showing, Sunday, 4/26, at 10:15 PM. That's pretty late, but it's only 77 minutes long and I'm not sure if this will have a wider release, so best see it while you can. (Tickets)


Lion's Den (A-)
Argentina (2008); Directed by Pablo Trapero

Argentina's Oscar submission from last year is a taut and emotionally charged drama boasting an incredible performance by Martina Gusman, who, shockingly, has only one other screen credit to her name. Gusman plays Julia, a twenty-something woman sent to prison on a murder charge following a bloody fight at the the apartment she shared with two men. She's pregnant by one of them, a fact not made clear until we realize that she has been placed in a cell block with other women and, disturbingly, their young children (unless mine eyes deceive me, it's evident Gusman was actually pregnant and had a child during production). It's a horrifying sight to see toddlers using prison cell doors as a jungle gym, but eventually it becomes a new normal both for them and for us. To that end, one of my two complaints is that I felt like a voyeur peering in at the situation, instead of a character actually experiencing it. Nonetheless it was still tense throughout, even through an ending that I didn't particularly care for. Lion's Den does not play again at the festival, but due to the positive reactions to both screenings over the weekend, try to see if it's chosen as one of the "Best of the Fest" held over to the first week of May.