Power Paths Screening

I found Power Paths to be an interesting insight into the energy crisis our world is facing. The issue of finding new, renewable energy resources impacts the entire world. Power Paths condenses the world narrative, and stages it specifically upon Native American reservations. By making it a story for a small group of people, rather than pedantically telling the world to change their energy consumption practices, the documentary’s message is less overwhelming and becomes more immediate, because actual characters, instead of faceless masses, are at risk.

The documentary at times I felt could have come across as a laundry list of problems that need to be addressed. Several key issues were covered: coal factories, water conservation, and corporations’ deceit to name a few, all of which are a significant threat to the Hopi and Navajo communities. The manner in which they were addressed one after the other, traveling from county to county, state to state, felt somewhat forced, as though if the last issue didn’t hook the audience, the next one sure would. The editing, however, following certain characters in the last scene into the next, I believe helped the documentary flow much more smoothly. The audience is able to meet a new character, understand their plight (like the families who have lost multiple loved ones do to local coal plants), but then follow them as they try to fight the pollution and the corporations causing it (like the meeting to protest the construction of a new coal plant). This is not about an environmental group coming in to save the Hopi and Navajo communities. The change in Power Paths is catalyzed from within, which is more empowering for them and the viewer.

The Weather Underground

The Weather Underground, or The Weather Men (the name was taken from the Bob Dylan lyrics, “You don’t need a weather man to tell which way the wind blows), was a radical group from the sixties that turned to violence, targeted bombings to be more precise, to ensure their voices were heard.

The documentary shows the history of the group as they started out as part of the SDS, and how they broke away from the organization, taking hordes of members with them, using their Bonnie and Clyde personas. The group wanted to end the atrocious war in Vietnam, but also to topple the United States government and instate a new system not based on capitalism and the decadence and brainwashing that came with it. The group felt that, in the sixties with several Third World countries throwing off the chains of colonialism, the whole world was about to experience revolution and the group wanted to be a part of, if not ignite, it in America.

The documentary follows the group as they go underground after police surveillance and abuse hinders their ability to fight the power. This boosts the groups infamy astronomically, but the documentary is able to remain distant from the groupie mentality that followed The Weather Men. At this point, the documentary includes interviews that do not rave about the rebellious nature of the group. A former president of SDS critiques their turn to violence and ability to enchant hundreds of members into following them. He critiques their motives, implying that the group was more interested in drugs, orgies guised as sexual freedom, and fame, more than they wanted the end of the Vietnam War. It is not my place to question The Weather Men’s motives, but as a viewer I appreciated the balance, the flipside to a culture and movement I have only witnessed through films and books.

The documentary even includes contradictory interviews from former Underground members, who describe the group as cultish and pretty much insane. Hearing these words spoken from a former member of the group greatly casts a shadow on their actions and causes the viewer to examine their motives more closely. In a sense, these contradictory words not only grant the documentary a sense of balance, but also takes the viewer out of the hysteria of the time: the scarring images of the Vietnam War blasting images of monstrous American brutality abroad into the homes of Americans via television news coverage, the death tolls broadcast on the nightly news, race wars being raged in the streets, and citizens feeling a part of the death machine of the American government, but feeling torn about their loyalties.

Being a part of a young generation, this documentary becomes completely relevant in terms of the war in the Middle East. I believe everyone with the ability to think for themselves is appalled by the war. The power of documentary gives a predecessor for a formative moment in our lives. The youth of the sixties was invested in protesting the Vietnam War, many of which were caught up in a violent, obsessive debate over its end. In comparison, many college students today still protest the war on “Terror,” but at the same time it is not equivocal to some of the actions of protestors during the sixties. Inadvertently, The Weather Underground becomes a strange mirror for the youth of today. Molotov Cocktails are replaced with blogs and, on the lower end of the spectrum, apathy and ignorance. I myself have not been involved as I would have wished to. I am not advocating violent protesting, but the comparison secondarily made between the youth of the sixties and the youth of today is stark. The Weather Underground powerfully shows how documentary has the ability to depict a certain time or story that has modern relevance and still has the ability to shape our futures, so that we do not repeat the past.

Los Four/Murals of Aztlan

I saw a short, 20 min. documentary on the Chicano Art Group Los Four (consisting of Carlos Almaraz, Gilberto Lujan, Frank Romero, and Roberto “Beto” de la Rocha – father of Zach de le Rocha of Rage Against the Machine), called Los Four/Murals of Aztlan, in another class. The documentary follows the group as they prepare for an exhibit at LACMA (Los Angeles County Museum of Art), the first Chicano art exhibit to grace the walls of the LACMA, even though there is and was a colossal population of Chicano artists in LA. The group is portrayed as a defiant group, inspired by everyday life and sightings in East LA. There were two concerns I had with the documentary: their gender portrayal and the manner in which the exhibit played out opening night.

The short documentary follows Los Four as they create the exhibit. They are filmed creating their art, but also sitting in a circle playing guitar and singing Mexican folksongs. They have a few female companions, but in the documentary they remain unnamed. It is assumed that one woman in particular is a companion of one of the men; she helps them assemble their exhibit and even cuts their hair (in the middle of the gallery). In this manner, the group is able to break down the walls of the “superior” space of the gallery and bring everyday life of Chicanos into that space, but at the same time they become glorified. This manner of representation fixes them as rock stars of Chicano art, but at the same time relegates the female barber to a secondary position. By not finding it necessary to address or name her, her importance and identity become trivial. Los Four is portrayed as a Boys’ Club and converts the gallery to a very masculine space.

This portrayal of the woman as inconsequential, however, does not completely deter my admiration of the artists’ coup of the LACMA for one night. Instead of serving champagne and hors d’ouevres to the LACMA patrons, Los Four served tacos and Sangria. Los Four was able to bring Chicano culture into the gallery. Many of their fans attended, but, interestingly, many well-to-do LACMA patrons attended only to be turned on their heads. Instead of finding the posh (or white) art they were used to, they found an all-out fiesta! This clash of cultures resulted in a communal party, in which everyone dined on Mexican food and LACMA patrons enjoyed the art of a culture that had up until then been defined as inferior and outlawed from museums.

I find it interesting that a group that had been defined as second class, even though they were a forerunner of an artistic movement, still came off as chauvinistic. A twist in the story, however, comes when a rival Chicano art group, Asco (which means nausea in Spanish), crashed their opening night. Asco recently had been turned down by LACMA when they suggested more Chicano art should be exhibited at the museum (so they graffitied their names on the walls of the museum in protest and recorded it in a photo. LACMA, of course, whitewashed the walls overnight, so the disgrace would not last.) The founding members of Asco, however, consisted of a woman, Patssi Valdez, and a gay man, Gronk. The masculinity of Los Four is not found in Asco. This comparison creates an interesting discussion about what is and what is not accepted by “minorities” and “majorities”. Curiously, Los Four, a very masculine group, is allowed to show their work at the LACMA, but the diverse (and just as dynamic) Asco is refused. At the same time, however, the progress shown by Los Four’s take over of the LACMA was a milestone in the Chicano Art movement.

Questionable Ethics

I meant to blog about the ethics reading we had a while back. I found the reading interesting, informative, and unhelpful. Alright, well the last part not so much. I just find it fascinating that there are no set guidelines for documentary ethics. The reading was helpful in the sense that it conveyed how a documentary filmmaker must follow his or her gut reactions to situations, but these varied. In lab one day, we discussed the situation of a subject breaking down and crying in front of the camera. The reading presented this discussion through several directors’ experiences. One chose to stop the interview and turn off the camera. Another kept rolling, deciding to edit the footage later. I think keeping the subject as a basis for decision-making is important, because they have opened their lives to an artist and the public. This makes the subject vulnerable and misuse of their trust reflects poorly on the entire field. The practice of making ethical decisions based on directors’ morality is a good one, but no one is perfect and no one is saintly moral every waking moment.

In this sense, I think there should be a stricter set of rules for documentarians to follow, because too often directors are driven not so much by their art and connection with their subjects, but by deadlines, bosses, box office thrills, and personal gain. The reading does delve further into the instances of being on a low budget, pressed for time, and under the thumb of a ratings-driven boss, stating that in every situation the director should weigh every outcome to form the best decision. People, however, are prone to making mistakes and people do fold under pressure. DOCUMENTARIANS ARE HUMANS TOO. I find it interesting that filmmakers can snoop through people’s private lives, make their stories public, and possibly hurt them in the process without having their own Hippocratic Oath to follow. To me this is a sign that documentary films and filmmaking are still an understudied field. If doctors and lawyers (who work with people and affect others’ lives) have their own set of rules, documentary filmmakers should as well.

I don’t mean to sound harsh on documentary directors. My first day in Ellen’s class last semester, I confessed to my previous dislike and general disregard of documentaries, but after working shortly with documentary footage, I converted. I believe in the relevant nature of documentaries; of their ability to promote, if not ignite social change. I just think that, because of this calling, documentary must be taken as seriously as any other field (even though many grumblers out there find it boring). I do not think that artistic censorship should be promoted either, because that impedes the message and themes filmmakers are trying to convey in the first place. Instead of a quick list of do’s and don’ts, I think, simply, that more research and discussion is needed.

Trouble the Water

I didn’t know much about Katrina after it happened. I knew it was a tragic disaster, that many people lost their homes or lives, that the media was showing a lot of “news coverage” of people looting or being “bad,” and that Kanye West thought George Bush hates black people. Watching the footage from inside the storm was the most formative media I have seen concerning Katrina.

The fact that it was not a documentary filmmaker well-versed in the art of filmmaking makes Trouble the Water all the more powerful. One woman, Kimberly Rivers Roberts, happened to live in New Orleans, happened to get a camera not too long before the storm, happened to be unable to leave, and happened to decide to film what followed. That’s a lot of happenstance. What resulted is, what I think, a far more accurate account of Katrina. It is not rampant with artistic style and frame-by-frame calculated metaphoric shots. After the media rampage the followed Katrina, I think what the public needs to see is an unveiled account of what actually happened. They need to meet the people who lived (and may still) there, they need to see the streets flooding up to the rooftops; they need to see people trapped in their attics. They need to relate to the people who weathered the storm, because it has a humanizing effect. Trouble the Water accomplished this.

The most interesting part of the film, for me, were the shots of their neighbor swimming with a giant floatie from house to house rescuing people. He did not do this because he thought the people down the street were filming and that one day their footage would be made into a documentary and nominated for an Academy Award. He risked his own safety, because he is a brave, compassionate person. What struck me most about this scene was that this footage is a mirror of the footage news stations put out portraying “looters.” How many stations put out footage of the same kind and spun it as dangerous, illegal conduct?

Trouble the Water also goes into depth about the aftermath of the hurricane, the displacement of people, and the unreliability of the government (Kimberly and her husband Scott were unable to receive government help for months afterward and had to deal with their destroyed homes surrounded by military personnel). The director in these scenes, then becomes the subject, a line which I have not seen crossed before. Only a project of circumstance seems to cross these lines without seeming convoluted.

Overall, I recommend this film. It is edited wonderfully for the story (especially considering the circumstances) and is eye-opening…watch it!

You Don’t Have to Go It Alone

Last week Chelsea and I filmed KB on top of a parking garage downtown. Everything was set for the shoot: we had our cameras set up, the audio was good, we had the perfect light of dusk veiling the area. There was just one problem. KB was running late and our light was running out. The pressure was on. As the sun continued to set, we decided not to scrap the shoot, but to deal with what we had. As soon as KB arrived, we started. John was on the main camera, I had the profile camera, and Chelsea boomed and asked the questions. This experience was a perfect example of a multi-person shoot and the benefits it embodies.

We were all under pressure to make sure the shoot was valuable. I remember doing my doc last semester all by my lonesome. It was a problematic, anxiety-filled month. This shoot, however, went smoothly. We did not each have to set the frame on each shot, be conscious of the audio (and audio interferences), ask the questions, and make sure her answers could form a narrative all at the same time.

The lighting ended up working in our benefit for the most part. We still got the amazing light of the magic hour and the cameras (the z5us) really were working well in the low-light situation we found ourselves in. I think that with a little color correction during post in problem spots, the entire interview will be usable (and pretty).  Because of the two-camera setup we had, I think we were able to experiment a little bit more (a luxury I did not feel I had last semester), because if a rack zoom did not quite work, we knew the other person was still shooting.

Working with a crew also allows for different feedback and ideas. Once it got late I thought we should keep shooting, because it seemed to fit KB’s persona: waitress by day, Rap Star by night. John luckily noticed a bright street light overlooking a nearby parking lot. Chelsea had KB bring her hot black sports car around so she could talk and do some of her songs in front of it. The overall effect is quite interesting, because this is a very (cliché) macho setup, featuring the young, talented white girl who is trying to break into a very macho arena.

All in all, I am now a huge advocate of the multi-person shoot and can’t wait to be a part of them more in the future.

Young @ Heart

I was excited to watch the film Young @ Heart when I checked it out from Ellen. The film details a group of elderly (around the ages of 70-80+) men and women who are part of a choral group. This is no ordinary church of classic choir; they sing everything from The Clash and James Brown to Sonic Youth and Coldplay. They also have had a series of international tours, singing for sold out theaters across the United States and Europe. Of course there are some grumblings in the ranks when certain songs are given to them (Sonic Youth’s “Schizophrenia” was received with particular disdain), but the groups choir director is so insistent, he wins the group over.

There is such a large group of people, but the directo,r Stephen Walker, casted his film skillfully. He chose to follow characters that are charming, unique, and actually really funny. They kind of reminded me of my grandparents. His point in the film was to depict this group of elderly people not as sickly and useless (though he does show one of the men to be a stereotypically bad driver), but as a group who, despite their age, are still filled with a zeal for life and a passion for singing.

Walker also chose to follow certain members who would provide a story arch. One problematic thread in the film is the song “I Feel Good” by James Brown. The duet assigned to the song have two problems: one cannot get the beat for the song and the other cannot remember the words. EVER. Of course they push through and on the night of their big concert tensions are high, because nobody knows if the song will be a success. This was smart direction and provided a plot and a sense of suspense leading up to opening night.

The other thread the film followed was that of death among the choir members. My favorite character in Young @ Heart, Joe Benoit (age 83) died during filming. He had quit the group previously, because he was suffering from cancer. The group brought him back in and he was determined to sing at the first concert of the season. Joe was special to the group, especially because he had the ability to memorize whole songs in an afternoon.  He was given the solo/lead in Coldplay’s “Fix You” and sang it better than the original, I believe. Unfortunately, the morning of a preview show at a local prison, Joe died. The show went on (of course) and one of Joe’s friends sang it in memoriam. The prisoners and guards were informed of the group’s loss before the song and there was not a dry eye on the yard that day.

I truly enjoyed this film. HOWEVER, there was one aspect of it that I truly DESPISED (I spoke to Ellen about this in class). There is a constant narration by the British director Stephen Walker. Normally I would think, “Oh! Some British person is narrating? That’s sweet!” I’m somewhat of an anglophile. No, this completely took me out of the film at critical moments. He reminded me of some British ethnographer, watching a group of indigenous people and thinking, “Oh, how funny. Look at the way they act and talk! Isn’t that silly?” I’m probably being too harsh on Mr. Walker, but he narrated the film in a play-by-play manner. When we find out of Joe’s death after a long battle with cancer, the camera is outside the group’s bus that is taking them to the prison. There are mics on board so as not to intrude, but to also get the needed footage. The moment is heartbreaking, but right on cue Walker’s voice comes in to inform the audience that the moment IS truly heartbreaking. I think if he had let half of the story unfold naturally, rather than telling it to us like a children’s book reading, showing us the appropriate pictures at the right time, I would have enjoyed it much more. That rant aside, though, I recommend this film!

The Construction of Guantanamo

While watching The Road to Guantanamo, I felt a complete sense of skepticism. Many people have said they either found it very convincing or felt distrust toward the narrative structure of the film. It seems that after watching the film, there is no middle ground between both opinions.

Throughout the beginning of the film (aside from the general curiosity of how these happy young men were going to wind up in the infamous POW camp in Cuba) I was fully aware of the fact that the film is a construction. Yes, it is true that we are used to shows on the history channel that use reenactments, but they usually have disclaimers at the bottom of the screen which communicate to the viewer: Reenactment. I felt the fact that the film did not have such a disclaimer meant Winterbottom and the producers of the film were trying to pull a fast one on the audience. In this way, perhaps the audience would take what they see on the screen as documentary fact and not narrative. I’m not saying that the film was not based in truth and understand the obstacle of not having the necessary footage to make the film, but I still did not like the manner in which it was seamlessly slipped in. Along those lines, when the narrative footage was intercut with archive news footage, I felt as though the producers were trying to reinforce in the viewer’s mind the truthfulness of the story.

The fact that I did not trust the film made me more aware that it, like all films is a construction. Of course all films are constructions, but I think the ability of people to forget this fact brings them into the story more. I was not able to do that. I questioned everything, even down to the cutaways. I wondered what Winterbottom’s intentions were in placing the shots in the film that he did. One that particularly bothered me was a shot of a man chopping a hunk of bloody meat that was covered in flies. I wondered why he chose this shot as a cutaway to portray Afghanistan. I think the point of the movie was to show the other side of the war, to show and humanize the enemy. If that is the case, then I wonder why he would choose to show something that reinforces a barbaric and unclean notion that prevails about the Middle East.

These grievances aside, I fully enjoyed the film. I also think that perhaps the placement of a disclaimer on the screen would take the viewer out of the story. The point of this film is to tell an important story that was hushed up by American (Western) media and (eventually in this way, for me) it was successful.