BEAUTY DEDICATION AND FAMILY BITTERNESS... JIRO DREAMS OF SUSHI IN THE MIDST OF IT ALL...

If you have followed my film-related ramblings for any length of time, you will have noticed that I watch a lot – and I mean a LOT of rather random looking documentaries. You may be amused to find out that what you read about on this blog and elsewhere represent the tip of the iceberg. Oh yes. I am, actually, quite selective as to which documentaries I talk to you about – you would be bored to death of me if I wrote about every single one, variety being the spice of life and all that jazz. So rest assured, though the name seems random and the subject matter, well, not what you would immediately think of as prime viewing matter, but bear with me. There are several reasons I was so impressed with this little number from Japan.

Firstly, if you thought the name of the documentary was a euphemism, you are sadly mistaken. Jiro indeed does dream of sushi. But it may well behove us to know who Jiro is, and what earthly reason he could have to dream of sushi. The man in question is Jiro Ono. He is a master chef and at 85 still very firmly at the helm of Sukiyabashi Jiro, a small and very exclusive restaurant that only serves sushi. But we are talking three Michelin starred sushi here people. This is definitely not your supermarket value platter. This, my dear friends, is sushi well worth taking a closer look at…

In case you don’t know me in real life, I am allergic to fish. I can barely touch the stuff, much less eat it raw. Therefore, you might think (and indeed, I certainly did) that sushi would not feature particularly high on things I admire. But thanks to the cinematography of this documentary, even I had a momentary twinge of envy as I watched the sushi being lovingly prepared. The film pays as much attention to detail as Jiro and his staff does. The colours are clean and crisp, we are brought up close and personal to this extraordinary restaurant and the rather extraordinary sushi it produces.

Which is just as well really; since we’re in Japan, you have to spend some time “getting to know” the people in our documentary before we start to glean some truly personal information about them. I mean, just think about the shear plethora of “behind the scenes in the kitchen” type films, programmes and documentaries we see on western television. The highs and the lows, the shouting, the excitement, the adrenaline… Think Gordon Ramsey, we are taken on an emotional, almost Hollywood movie style journey as we watch him have an emotional crisis over rotten food, then inflicting said crisis on the unfortunate author of this catastrophe. The food is almost an aside, what often matters is the drama – with the exception of bona fide cookery programmes of course. Here we focus on the food. The patience with which the apprentices have to learn every, single solitary task to perfection down to the finest detail before taking another – seemingly miniscule – step forward in the hierarchy. We watch Jiro, despite his great age, forever striving to make the perfect sushi, always improving, always experimenting…

And from here we can spot one of the first underlying currents in this documentary. Because I cannot imagine anyone with some form of heart and soul not being filled with warm fuzzy feelings – and just a twinge of envy – as Jiro talks about his craft, and what is very clearly his vocation. The joy he clearly feels (despite being a very traditional and withdrawn 85 year – old), the twinkle in his eyes, the unwavering determination in his voice when he talks about the craft of making sushi is truly enviable. It is, without doubt, what we would all want from our careers. To feel that sure it was the thing we were born to do, to be passionate about it until the bitter end, to find strength in it, develop it and let it develop us… Jiro is a very lucky man in many ways, but perhaps never more so than for this particular reason…

But then we slowly get to a second thing. A matter hinted at, shown in flickers, but discussed with relative restraint. Jiro has two sons and unsurprisingly both are sushi chefs like their father. The younger son now has his own restaurant, albeit very much modelled on Sukiyabashi Jiro. His older son, traditionally expected to take over his father’s position one day, works under his father in the original restaurant. He is in almost in his 60s. You have to watch quite closely to pick up on “anything” but then… Then one of the critics and friends of the family casually drops a bombshell… I will not tell you what and if you blink, you may very well miss it. But if you stop and think about it, it basically… Changes everything. And says so very much about family dynamics and how incredibly complicated they are…

Jiro dreams of sushi was a very, very unexpected discovery for me. I most definitely did not expect it to be so touching, beautiful or thought provoking… So don’t just sneer at it thinking it’s oh, just another cookery programme... It’s a more. A lot more. 

BECAUSE REMEMBERANCE SHOULD NOT BE CONFINED TO JUST ONE WEEK... "SHOAH"

This post was originally meant for Holocaust remembrance week. God knows it would have suited the week infinitely better, subject-matter wise. But it took me a while to get through the watching stage for this one. And I don’t just mean because of the length. The subject matter means that you cannot actually sit down and watch the thing in a couple of large chunks. The “sessions” I watched this rather extraordinary documentary in left me drained, and in serious need of a drink and a good few episodes of some sort of sit-com to bring me back to the real world.

Shoah is a truly extraordinary documentary. If you decide to watch a single thing about the Holocaust, make it Shoah and you never need to watch anything again. Not just because it is a mind blowing 9,5 hours long, with no natural cut-off points or episodes. Because making a (very) long documentary is all well and good, but you can perfectly well manage to use that time to say very little. Director Claude Lanzmann uses the time to say virtually anything you can think of, and tell stories from the Holocaust that you may not have heard before.

Because yes, we hear the heart-rending and extraordinary stories of the survivors of the camps. But we also talk to the drivers of the trains that took them there. The villagers in the surrounding fields who were allowed to tend their crops as the prisoners were worked to death in the camp next door. The regular poles and Checks who joined the resistance after realising the true extent of the horrors taking place on their door steps. And last, but by no means least, the Nazi soldiers who oversaw the killing machines.

The one advantage this work has over modern works is the fact that since it was made in the early to mid-80s (the official date of the film is 1985 but it must have taken a good few years to assemble) a lot of the people who were involved in the Holocaust (be they victims, perpetrators or just witnesses from afar) were quite old, but still alive and able to tell their stories with clarity. Not a single, solitary frame of archive footage is used. Which makes sense, because I am sure that Shoah was meant as an archive- an archive of memories.

You have often heard me drone on about how difficult it is to make a film about a topic like the Second World War, simply because of the profusion of material about it. But Lanzmann, meticulous in his approach, manages to elicit stories and points of view that I have not seen before or since. I was especially touched by the testimony of the train driver who was responsible for driving the infamous cattle trains to Treblinka. It will not be a major plot spoiler to tell you that the only way the drivers of these trains could bear the job they were given was by making the journey almost blind drunk. For even above the roar of the train, it would seem that the lamentations of the people in the first few carriages were clearly audible from the locomotive…

Then of course there are the interviews with the ex- Nazis. Some of these interviews were actually filmed in secret as the Nazis had originally only agreed to do voice recordings. But the hidden camera imagery shows old men who could, for all intents and purposes be your own grandfather. “We may have to stop early” warns one old man “I have heart problems as you know and… I will let you know if feel I cannot go on.” And while this warning is a clear demonstration of emotions built up inside, the ex-soldier uses a meticulously drawn map and stick to explain the day to day workings of the camp (Auschwitz) and talks about the details of operating the death machine in a manner that is almost matter of fact. One cannot help but wonder at the extraordinary defence mechanisms the human soul throws up to combat stress and memories…

As a modern day film-viewer you will find Lanzmann’s style of filming hard to get into. It is slow moving, and seems to focus on the tiny details you may at first find irrelevant or unimportant. What Lanzmann is actually trying to do is to reconstruct the entire landscape of the Holocaust. The workaday details. The little and the large that made up the entire, horrendous death machine. The result is one of the most realistic portraits of the death camps, where your imagination can transport you there so much more efficiently than stock-footage of liberated camps ever could… Because that’s the tricky thing about archive footage… So much of it is from “after the event” as it were. The only real record of what actually happened in the camps are memories. And perhaps the only way of truly doing these memories justice is to record them in the most minute detail possible. To this end, Lanzmann does not even use voiceovers or subtitles for some of the interviewees who don’t speak a European language. We hear their story in their own voice, then through that of the interpreter. It maybe takes a little longer, but the emotion in the voices of the storytellers (for what else can I call them) is not lost.

This is a definite must watch. And not necessarily just for Holocaust remembrance week but for all times, for truly, remembrance of these horrors should not be confined to just one week…  Just set aside some time over a few days, and bear witness to these stories, so unbelievable and so horrifying that they could only ever be real… 

KISS THE WATER - AND MARCH TO THE BEAT OF YOUR OWN DRUM...

I don’t quıte know how to say this… I just want to come straight out and start off by saying that never in my wildest dreams could I actually have been able to picture myself advising you guys to watch what seems to be for all intents and purposes, a documentary on fly fishing. No, no don’t close the page just yet; I assure you there is more to it than that. Kiss the Water, is a little number that made quite a stir in film festivals this year; be it Tribeca, Hot Springs or Edinburgh… Calling it a merely a documentary on fly fishing would be an immense insult to the extraordinary woman whose story it tells… And in fact, to the film itself – after all it does rise to the challenge of its extraordinary subject matter and tells its story in rather an extraordinary way…

The story is that of Megan Boyd. You probably wouldn’t have heard of her. But she is, in fact, one of the greatest creators of fishing flies to have lived. Miss Boyd was both eccentric and a recluse. But that does not mean she was shut off from the world. Her works of art – for how else can I describe them – have graced the collections of the rich and famous, of royalty and of collectors all over the world…

And I am pretty sure that this is going to be the first of many points in this little gem that will take you by surprise. Her fishing flies were so beautiful that there is an open division of opinion as to whether they were ever intended to be used at all… One expert on the matter even confidently states that they weren’t intended for use – he is, however, contradicted by Miss Boyd’s apprentice which to my mind says the last word on the matter. I must confess, I have had very little to do with fly fishing in my time. I had no idea what to expect when we had the first extreme close-up of a fly. I was mesmerized in an instant, hooked as it were, by one of the many salmons her flies caught… The colours, the ingenuity, the creativity…You should watch the documentary, if for no other reason, so that your impression of fishing flies – whatever they may be – can be corrected once and for all.

But that is by far and away not the only thing that recommends the film. Since it has taken on a rather extraordinary life and person, Kiss the Water goes slightly off the beaten track as far as its cinematography goes. True, there are the requisite talking heads – people who knew her, who worked with her, who studied her work… These are intercut with simply stunning visuals from the Scottish countryside (it really got the travel bug in me going) and with stunning and almost abstract animations, not to reconstruct anything in particular but, to convey the emotions created by fishing, the flies, the nature, Miss Boyd herself and her creative process. For a split second I was concerned that the whole animation thing was going to lapse slightly into the overly artistic and pretentious, but no.  The animation sequences capture a sense of beauty and creativity that quite unexpectedly appear in the midst of the more conventional segments of the documentary – much like the moment Miss Boyd’s flies hit the water and brought a tiny speck of something different into the river…

Another point I rather liked about the documentary is the fact that Miss Boyd’s physical form is strangely absent from her life story… It may seem odd that we do not actually see pictures (moving or otherwise) of her right until the very end. But look at it this way, The documentary does such a good job of conveying everything about Miss Boyd, her character and her work that a mere photograph could not convey –we don’t actually need the obligatory grainy videos of her. We have learnt all that is important. Not that the grainy videos are out of place or ill-used when they do come, mind you…

Quite apart from anything else, this documentary is a wonderful opportunity to marvel at how many different guises artistic talent and creativity can come in… And what a wonderful thing it is to have the courage to walk to the beat of one’s own drum – and that beat alone.  Because you know, it doesn’t make a lot of sense at first glance, living out most of one’s life in a tiny remote cottage with neither electricity nor running water making a living by hand-making fishing flies but you know… Aren’t you glad she did?

For viewers in the UK The Art of Fly Fishing : Kiss the Water is currently available on BBC Iplayer… I say go check it out… Like, now… 

ESSIE SPEAKS OF ART PART 3 – ART FOR ART’S SAKE - ENCHANTED KINGDOM

“Yeah I think it’s basically an ordinary animal documentary in 3d” commented one of my fellow participants at Dream Factory in Liverpool last month. The lady in front of us in the queue (who later turned out to be Bonnie Voland,  I M Global’s head of international marketing) turned towards us with a laugh and said “ There is nothing ordinary about THIS documentary, I can assure you!” It took all of ten minutes of watching the documentary to realize that she was most definitely right. This was a kind of documentary we had never seen before and a true technical feat as far as the filmmaking went. Do I adore it unreservedly though? Well…

The content of Enchanted Kingdom is a little hard to describe. I strongly suspect this was the reason the blurb in the conference program was so unspecific. Oh it was very mysterious and very befitting of the title of Enchanted Kingdom but having actually watched the film, I strongly suspect there was a slightly more serious question (namely “well what DO we say it’s about then?!”) behind its creation. The documentary takes place in Africa and is mainly aimed at the young in tone. Idris Elba narrates as we traverse Africa, that continent so rich in landscapes from Jungles to desserts, following various aspects of animal life in Africa… In 3D.

And those last two words basically form the entire hook, the USP the whole “point” of the film. It’s in 3d. And before you snort and lose interest, let me point this out to you; 3D technology has advanced tremendously over the last years. As a grown woman, I was simply agog at the beauty of the images: the animals’ faces shot out of the screen with such reality you almost felt able to touch the gorilla’s nose or fondle the face of a lion cub. The coral reefs were particularly striking, and I thought the volcanos gave the impression of almost being in the very bowls of hell itself. In fact, the years and years of expertise gathered under the roof of the BBC had brought together such a beautiful series of images that I would dare you not to stare at them agog like a child.

But it is one thing to take the little ones to see the film – and the children of Liverpool were allowed in a small group into the screening  and seemed to have no complaints but as an adult… Well… I got bored. I always say that style over substance is a very dangerous thing. And in a feature film, it is one thing to have this; at least, being a feature, the work before you will have a minimal storyline and you will at least have something to focus your mind on. A documentary is another matter. It professes to teach, to tell you something you never knew before. Enchanted Planet? It basically boils down to a series of simply gorgeous moving pictures of Africa. And literally, no substance whatsoever.

I think this is a rather extreme version of something I see a lot in 3D films. Possibly because 3D itself is still a relative novelty, entire segments are dedicated seemingly simply to showcase what the director can do with the 3D equipment. This makes for some stunning visual results but tends to sacrifice a bit of the content. I mean take Gravity by Alfonso Cuaron. Would the storyline have been so gripping if the film was in 2d and had no breathtaking shots of planet earth to fall back on? I am very, very dubious. Sandra Bullock’s character was positively flat in places quite frankly. I know I’m meant to really sympathize with her and all that but it somehow reached a point where we got to that epic low angle shot of her at the end to describe what a survivor she is, I mean I know I was meant to be excited but all I could think of was how totally OTT it felt. Take Avatar. In 2D would it be any different than any of the hundreds of films about the white man and the noble savage? Anyone who knows me in real life has heard me call the film reverse Pochahontas in 3D. Take a minute to think about it. You may not WANT to admit it but you know I’m right.

But what, I hear you cry, of art for art’s sake and beauty existing simply for its own sake? Why nothing at all, I never said this was a bad thing. I have nothing against beautiful pictures existing merely for their own sake. I just found it very hard to sit through 90 minutes of it that’s all. As far as the technology that was used goes, along with the locations it was used in, the film truly is groundbreaking. If you’re over the age of 8 however, it is far too long. Bizarrely enough though, for all that ranting, I would recommend you see it. If you like films as much as I do, you are a highly visual person and you simply must not miss this series of beautiful images. It is truly impressive to see what our planet is capable of, but perhaps almost as impressive to see how far we have come with our own technological developments. 3D is here to stay no matter what you think of it, I personally think it’s a matter of learning to make substantial works of art with it. At the moment, we’re just staring wide-eyed at it, marveling. I definitely wouldn’t recommend you see it all in one sitting, however. How you’ll manage that as 3D home entertainment is not quite a day to day item I truly do not know but…  Hmm, I’ll just be quiet and let you decide this one for yourself, shall I?

ESSIE SPEAKS OF ART - PART 2 - RECREATING A UNIQUE MASTERPIECE IN "TIM’S VERMEER"

Art and science. In our modern day, they almost seem like two polar opposites. It is rare to imagine anyone doing more than dabble in both – if you’re actually good at one or the other,  that means, well… You’re either “scientific” or “artistic” you can’t very well be both… Or can you?... Tim’s Vermeer is all about art and scientific method coming together, forming a rather beautiful whole – or several beautiful wholes that adorn the walls of the world’s museums today. As the makers of the documentary point out on numerous occasions, there was a time when science and art were not so sharply separated, and that inventors and artists were essentially the same person. I mean, think Leonardo Da Vinci, inventor, anatomist, painter and sculptor. And in a funny kind of way, while the artist who also invents is “multitalented” the inventor who wants to dabble in art is a kind of cheat. You know, he or she is not “creating” it from the gut; he is probably using “inventions” and things so it “doesn’t count”. Well, Tim Jenison is one inventor who asks the question “well why the heck not?”

Tim Jenison  is a scientist and technician in every sense of the word; he has built entire businesses on the back of his ideas and won awards for his inventions. Given this context, it may seem a tad odd that Tim wants to paint a Vermeer. But he does.  And I don’t mean he wants to take art classes and paint a copy of an original picture. He wants to paint the exact same, identical thing. Why? Well… 

See, Vermeer’s painting techniques have been a matter of excited discussion in art history circles. The way he captures light; the fine detail present in his technique that is not present in the work of any of his contemporaries… The way he did it is widely discussed. There are some that claim he was merely talented, that he picked up a brush and paintings came forth as we know them today naturally.

Well that’s one possibility. But there are several schools of thought that point out that as a wonderfully romantic idea as this may be, there is a greater possibility that Vermeer had a significant amount of ocular and technical help in composing his paintings. Now Tim’s no “pick up a brush and create a masterpiece through inspiration” kinda guy. But if there is a technical riddle to be puzzled out, well… Now you’re talking. With his close filmmaker friend Penn Jilette looking on (thorough his lens, obviously)Tim begins to puzzle out how on earth Vermeer achieved what he achieved. He is very strict about how he does it – nothing short of 17^thcentury technology is allowed. Tim even grinds his own pigments and makes his own paint when the time comes to actually start on the work itself. But will Tim be able to “recreate” a Vermeer? And if he does, what does this say about the nature of this theoretically “inimitable” work of art?

Now first of all, rest assured. If Tim wasn’t a multi-millionaire with nothing but time and money on his hands, this endeavor would not be possible. So there is no danger of the mystique of the arts being dissipated through the mass reproduction of the work, down to the original pigments. I think there are two issues here. And this is one of them. Art and artistic creation is by nature surrounded by a certain “mystique”. But the question is why should it be? Anyone who has truly got stuck into any creative endeavor will know that like any craft they all have their hard and fast rules, techniques to learn. Of course there is a certain “je ne sais quoi” added by the artist and that makes an artistic craft different from, say, carpentry. But if an artist is good at their craft, yes techniques have been learnt. Yes there has been blood sweat and tears all over the “boring stuff”. So why, on earth should the idea of hard work and technical advancement coming together with art be such an alien concept? If you find the idea that Tim has almost “recreated” a Vermeer strange and bothersome, do bear in mind that it is a “recreation”. Not a creation. Tim is not trying to “be” Vermeer. He is not trying to claim he is “better” than Vermeer or that Vermeer was some sort of cheat. He is exploring the technical aspects of the artistic work of Vermeer. You know the old adage about creation being 1% inspiration and 99% perspiration? Yep. It’s that 99% Tim is looking at. If it weren’t, if you think about it, Tim would be a painter by trade not an inventor.

And then there are those that take offence at the claims that Vermeer used anything other than raw talent to paint his pictures. By “anything else”, don’t get me wrong, I mean hand ground lenses, camera obscuras and mirrors (it’ll make more sense when you watch the documentary) . Somehow, again “it is cheating” if he didn’t just pick up a brush and the painting didn’t just flow out of it as it were. Ok, you may subscribe to this point of view. I would respect you for it. But I would like to point out that you are opening a whole can of worms here. What of, to give but one example, graphic designers? Yep, those guys creating beautiful works of art using computers. Are we going to say they are NOT artistic or creative because they use computer programs?   Ok, take it one step further – photographers. What will we do about them? I mean sure we all have cameras but even if we learnt the nitty gritty of the machines involved, would we have the dedication and inspiration to get the same results as an award winning photographer? Yeah, I don’t think so. I mean sure, you could RECREATE a picture. Could you create an equal but different one from scratch? Yeah.  I’m not even getting into the whole concept of cinema and, God help us MOVING pictures… Try and create those with no technical help if you can – and let the rest of us know if you succeed!

And another thing – ok so Vermeer used lenses and mirrors etc. to create his works. His ability, through the use of these techniques to capture details (he could even zoom in on details ladies and gents! Yes he could!) was unparalleled in his day. His ability to capture the subtleties of light and shadow are second to none, they are that close to reality. To the best of our knowledge (after all the actual details of these techniques were closely guarded you need to remember) it was his use of mirrors and lenses that made his perception so sharp, so close to real life… Much like… A camera. Vermeer, the 17^th Century photographer? Take a minute to think about it… It’s not as nuts as it sounds… 

THE WOMAN WHO ONLY LEFT HER GAZE BEHIND... VIVIAN MAIER : WHO TOOK NANNY’S PICTURES?

It is not exactly a foreign concept to any of us,that of the artist recognized only posthumously. Such was the life of Vivian Maier – she lived as a nanny and a recluse for most of her life and it is  only recently that her life’s work – tens of thousands of photographs are recognized as true works of art. Now they fetch thousands of dollars and she is recognized as one of the true original artists of our time.

The kicker? Maier was not a struggling artist per se. She never tried to get her pictures published. Sometimes she never even looked at them – hundreds of rolls of film she had taken were discovered undeveloped, their contents seen but once, by Maier, as she took the pictures. In her old age she was a hoarder and an eccentric and her lack of funds meant that she had to stop taking pictures around the ‘80s, most of her income being eaten up by storage costs. The tragedy being that the only way she was recognized as an artist was when she could no longer keep up the payment for her storage container and the contents needed to be sold. Even after her “discovery” well into her old age, Maier continued to be a recluse and what we know about her is infuriatingly sketchy and piecemeal. The only clues we do have about who she truly was are in fact, what she chose to capture with her camera.

Well this documentary is an eye-opener. It is, in my mind, the clearest indicator of what separates the true artist from the amateur. Or rather the spirit of the artist from the spirit of the amateur. Because the artist is COMPELLED to create whatever it is his talents lead them to create. I am not about to advocate the whole “art for art’s sake” movement in its entirety mind you. I fully believe that some works can be too pretentious and depending on the medium and genre of course, the interaction with the audience is a very important point to consider especially if you are trying to become more commercial as an artist. But this is another component to the work. It is not about how you hone and present it. It is the moment of its inception, its birth. There is almost a subconscious tug on the artist to create and to create in a certain way and the results come pouring out of one, regardless of whether others get to see it or not. Then of course comes the whole discussion of whether art is indded art with no audience. And there’s the whole parable that you can’t call yourself an artist unless you have been paid for your art. It has to be admitted that the fact that Maier hoarded her life’s work instead of sharing it with the word does constitute an argument against her. Or at least raises questions. The concept of the reclusive artist living in his/her world save for the output of her/his artistic endeavors is not an alien concept in the slightest. Think of directors like Terrance Malik for instance who haven’t given an interview in years and are yet venerated by the industry (although he does tend to divide audiences slightly. I have had long drunken arguments about whether Malik is pretentious or brilliant at parties. I claim he’s brilliant by the way ). The need to hide your works is one I do not get. Well, I do in a sense. Creating anything, be it a film review, an abstract painting, a photograph or a story is a very personal affair. It means taking out a little piece of your soul, your being and laying it bare for all to see. Photography is a strange one when it comes to that. Especially the kind of street photography Maier invested in. It consists of observing life closely and knowing that ephemeral moment that captures the essence of the subject and preserving it, in theory for all eternity. So you would be presenting slices of your own life. Because even if you are the observer, you are there. You are part of it (and from this of course, the importance of the audience). So a person who was almost pathologically private and secretive like Maier would find it difficult to let in an audience. After all, even in life she chose to be the audience, the observer, she is rarely “part” of the photos. We are, as the documentary points out, deprived of that telling clue that would have been provided by the results of her editing, i.e. what she would have CHOSEN to represent her to the world. But instead we are just left with her vision which we must make of what we will.

In the same way that Maier’s unassuming, dusty suitcases gave birth to the thousands of undiscovered works of art, this unassuming little documentary gives birth to thousands of thoughts and potential discussions on the nature of art and the artist. And it is one of the quirks of our universe that Maier could have started such a (potential) argument without having ever said a word… 

A MUST SEE FOR ALL OF US : BLACKFISH

Warning. This documentary is harrowing. And this is as it should be. I personally reckon you should force yourself to watch it anyway. I did – and this despite the fact that I already hate zoos, animal parks, in short anything that entails humans keeping animals in tiny enclosures. Or large enclosures. Heck, enclosures period. Especially if you`re a fan of all the Orca shows , you need to see this. It isn`t scandal-mongering. Yes, death and bloodshed is a part of it but we don`t see people being torn limb from limb. Don`t worry if you have a sensitive stomach – there is barely a drop of blood in sight. I won`t give any guarantees on you not having a broken heart though. That`s another story.

Blackfish tells the stories of a number of different wales in a number of different institutions but is vaguely centred on Tilikum, known as the largest killer whale kept in captivity. Living up to his dastardly name, Tilikum is responsible for the deaths of three keepers and several injuries. But Tilikum is a savage hunter and killer right? Maybe it was the trainers that weren`t careful. Or maybe… Just maybe there is something more serious going on here…

First of all, let me assure you of one thing. I mentioned it in the intro I`ll assure you of this again – there is very little actual blood. You will not be tormented with torturous re-enactments or vats of unconvincing fake blood. Real footage is used when it can be, as are police interviews and the minutes from court cases. But trust me, having a weak stomach is no excuse for not watching this fella. What we do have is eye-witness accounts. Visitors who witnessed the attacks, sure but you have to realise that the attacks themselves are only a result. What the documentary really shows us is what pushed Tilikum to attack and kill three different trainers. The answer is sadly easy to guess : we did.

Blackfish interviews former trainers, people employed by the park all the way down the line, right to the guys who are responsible for catching the whales in the wild and reel them in. It is all very well and good imagining killer whales are these dumb critters who know no better but these are animals with complex family lives. Actual languages. A large brain that has been scientifically proven to have extra parts to it the human brain does not have. And we abduct them when they are calves and keep them in concrete pools with no stimulation for all of their lives. We force them to live with other animals and tell the kids they are one big happy family while they actually probably don`t even speak the same language. We make cuddly toys of them and make sure we don`t think about how the mothers cry when their calves are abducted. Because they do. That was the anecdote that touched me the most (so much so that, since as you may know I am very close to my own mother, I called her at what was in Turkey the middle of the night sobbing and had to be calmed down. Mom I have to say you handled the situation very well considering.) Anyway this anecdote was about a mother and calf. These two lived in a SeaWorld park and were utterly inseparable. Until the calf started getting a bit disrespectful to the keepers, you know, she`s young, she`s giving them some attitude. SeaWorld decides the way to go is to separate the calf and the mother, so the calf is shipped to Florida. The mother is inconsolable and starts making these weird cries no one has ever heard before and in somewhere like SeaWorld this collectively are decades of experience working with animals. So experts are called in and the calls are analysed and the results are shocking as they are harrowing. They are long distance calls. She is perfectly aware her baby girl has been taken far, far away and in her desperation she is trying something humanity has never heard before to see if she can somehow reach her…

Guys, parents… Please teach your children that zoos are cruel. Teach them that animals should be free in the wild. Let`s put these horrors out of business so other families don`t have to be rent asunder like this. One of the trainers interviewed says that he thinks that in 50 years we may well look back at these days as decades of incomprehensible cruelty. I devoutly hope he is right… 

IN WHICH JAFAR PANAHI CREATES A NEW ART FORM... "THIS IS NOT A FILM"

Ok, so you guys know about Jafar Panahi, right? He is one of the most successful and talented directors Iran has produced in our century. He’s in a tad bit of trouble right now…  See, Penahi is one of the large group of educated Iranians who are against what the current regime is doing. And he is vocal about it. For this reason, he has been prosecuted and his sentence was 6 years in prison and a 20 year ban on making films, writing scripts or giving interviews. Having been “shut down” a third of the way through the production of his latest film, at the time of the production of this… Let’s call it a documentary for now, he is in his home in Tehran awaiting the decision for his appeal. Panahi, not content with just throwing up his hands and giving up, made the documentary. It was then smuggled out of Iran on an I-phone hidden in a cake, just in time for the Cannes Film Festival.  I mean,  that smuggling story alone deserves a movie made about it I reckon, but I guess that’s for another time and place. Now, it’s a tad bit hard to describe, but let’s try and focus on the actual thing that was smuggled for now.

Panahi is, in essence, stuck in his home in Tehran. He cannot work… Or can he? He first starts off by trying to film himself. That doesn’t work. So he reaches out to a personal friend and documentary film maker, Mojtaba Mitrahmahsb… From this effort emerges… Well, something. The DVD sleeve calls it a “new art form”. I have a feeling they may be right. Penahi, seemingly while he is doing little more than freestyling to the camera, asks a key question : “If you can tell a film, why should you film it?” Penahi starts off by telling us, scene by scene, the film he was interrupted doing.  It is strange, haunting and fascinating to watch as Penahi uses masking tape to mark off rooms on his living room floor and acts out key moments… After all, he cannot film or write scripts. There’s nothing in the court decision about not reading a script that is already written. But anyway, from there, he branches off into a philosophical debate, flashbacks of other films and, perversely, a very strange encounter with the janitor that Penahi films on the spur of the moment… I don’t know… You really have to see it to understand it properly.

Government censorship is a terrible thing at the best of times. I mean, I understand the need for control but in countries such as Iran, this “control” has spilled over into violations of the right to speak freely long, long ago. Throughout history though in most countries where artists have had to content with serious government pressure while they work a lot of ingenuity comes into play. Artists often take the censure and use it as an extra challenge to produce something extraordinary that still portrays the message they want to give. Penahi has achieved this with this particular project and it is this spirit I admire more than anything else. Having been forbidden to film, to write and to even talk about it in an official capacity, his immediate response is to start a project that fits all this criteria – so it is not a film – and yet… It may not be a film but it definitely is something darn similar… I mean, ask the Cannes Film Festival if you don’t believe me. Having been smuggled there the film made it into the official selection. No matter what you call it, film, documentary, installation, interview… It is a wonderful piece of work that demonstrates that even in the face of the most horrific oppression the human spirit will always find a way to fight back. Not necessarily with sticks and stones; but with thoughts, messages and art… I mean, at the end of the day, who needs sticks and stones? A well placed discussion is infinitely more dangerous to censorship… But that, as they say, is another story…  

BECAUSE REAL LIFE IS STRANGER THAN THE DREAMS OF ANY ARTIST... "EXHIBITS OR STORIES FROM THE CASTLE"

Ok. So I just explained how totally random my selection of films look to the untrained eye. There is, however, a certain something that ties them together, although I couldn’t quite tell you what it was. My… What? Outlook? Personality? Spirit? I’m not sure. You’re going to have to fill in the blanks. But I think that this air of chaos that actually has a connecting thread is a very fitting connection to my first film. This film, to be precise. Exhibits seemingly is about a pretty random collection of people. We are talking real life here, so it actually doesn’t get stranger or more random than this. And yet… There is something… You might say I’m romanticising. You might say it’s largely the fact that for this or that reason (illness or old age) they are not quite “corpus mentis”. I’d say you’d need to watch this beautiful gem of a documentary and make your own decision on the matter – as it presents a LOT to think about…

The Castle is a home for the elderly in Stupova, Slovakia. But aside from the elderly, it also houses people with mental illnesses and those with nowhere else left to go. Director Paolo Korec takes a closer look at some of the amazing and touching life stories living together, higgledy piggledy under the same roof. There is a once celebrated doctor of law, an ex-thief, an old soldier and an old man who actually has nothing wrong with him – but his wife needs constant care you see, so he just moved in. What was he to do? Go on without her?

I am a little sensitive about the treatment of the aged. In life generally, but in cinema especially. I’m not quite sure why, but it probably has a lot to do with the fact that I was largely raised by my grandmother whose health is rather frail these days (she is 90 years old). This is why I was intrigued to see how this eccentric group of characters would be treated by this film. There is nothing like a babbling old dear for comic relief after all.  I think it is largely due to the fact that the director Korec is also an older gentleman that there is a great air of affection and respect to the film. Humour – especially absurd humour – is abundant but very well placed. And you can easily glide through Exhibits without thinking about much… Or can you?

Because the moment you start dissecting the film, you realise that there are many sombre lessons to actually take away from it. I was touched by all the stories in varying ways, but the one that hit me the hardest was Classic (he now calls himself that) the lawyer. He was an actual lawyer you understand; a scholar of some fame and author of three text books in various areas of law. We do not learn how he came to be a permanent resident in Stupova. But there are still echoes of his previous life in his actions there. He has a planner in which he makes his weekly schedule, although it must be said, it now looks pretty different from what it once must have looked like… A lot of his day is now taken up by music, he is a great fan of a Slovakian pop- star (whose name I forgot to make a note of) and sneaks into the common room after dark to watch her DVDs and likes to sing along to her songs on his cd player. In the q &a after the film, this story in particular came up in the discussions. Korec pointed out that this story had touched him as well and remarked how important it is to remember that the line between sanity and insanity is very thin indeed. I wonder if Classic himself remembers when and how he crossed it? Ages are not discussed that much in the Castle, but I put Classic in his late 40s or early 50s at the most. If ever there were a reminder that you never know what’s round the corner for you, this story is it…  

So the film takes us from one “exhibit” to the next, each told with clarity and honesty. No punches are pulled about life in the Castle. It is not the lap of luxury but it could be so much worse. The doctors and nurses are pleasant. There is good food and good company. And since a very large number of the residents have actually reverted to their childhoods (with the ironic exception of Classic who, is one of the younger residents but I saw as closer to a teenager),  “the rest”, does not really matter… I don’t know about you, but I found it spooky yet strangely comforting. They have lost pretty much everything, but much like children, they have stopped focusing on the bigger picture and are delighted or made distraught by the smaller things in life… I don’t know… Don’t you find the idea of people of all walks of life united “at the end of it all”, like happy children comforting in a way? And don’t you think it’s rather silly to wait right until the very end to start making the little things in life if not your main priority, one of your priorities?

Oh yes. Exhibits looks like a humble, unassuming little 80 minute number about an old people’s home. Trust me, there is a LOT more to it than that… 

THE TRUTH IS ALMOST ALWAYS STRANGER THAN FICTION... "SEARCHING FOR SUGAR MAN"

It’s funny, when you get multiple movie buffs together; generally there are as many opinions as there are people – if not more. We do tend to be an emotional lot. But when I talked to various different movie buff friends of mine, they all concurred on one point. The best film of 2013 so far was without a shadow of a doubt Searching For Sugar Man. Admissions that I had not got round to it yet were met with unfeigned amazement tinged with horror – and I claim to be some sort of amateur expert! I got the message pretty quick – I also got a tad annoyed because I’m an Aries. And while I’m all for taking direction and advice, we are, as a zodiac sign, generally more comfortable telling OTHER people what to do. Hence the blog. Ehm. However, never let it be said that I ignore advice and refuse to take direction so I dutifully set off on my quest to find sugar man this week. My, oh my… I was not disappointed.

Searching for Sugar Man is the story of Rodriguez. There’s a strong possibility you never heard of him. Unless, that is, you come from South Africa. Rodriguez is an American signer who released two albums in the ‘60s, was a complete flop as far as anyone knew, and sort of vanished into the ether. His songs were highly political, almost Dylan-esque and anti-establishment. The spirit of the sixties at its best, topped off with real musical talent. Most of the world went on to forget Rodriguez completely. Except one very unlikely country… In South Africa, at the time almost a pariah country because of the apartheid regime, Rodriguez became the voice of the revolution, of the entire anti-establishment movement. He was bigger than Elvis and everyone  who was anyone owned his records. The thing was though; no one had ever seen him live. No one even knew his full name. The record sleeves were very cagey when it came to information and there were outrageous reports circulating that he was dead – most of  the urban legends pointed to some form of suicide, the most popular story being that he had set fire to himself on stage.  A couple of South African fans, however, were not content to let things go. They wanted, no needed, to discover the truth behind all this legend, even though it may lie thousands of miles away. The road would be frustrating and full of obstacles…  But when they finally got to the bottom of the mystery… The truth would truly prove stranger than anything any screenwriter could dream up…

I love the way the style of this documentary fits in so well with the wonderful story it tells. It seems, on the surface, your common or garden “talking heads” type documentary with scenic shots and a little animation thrown in here and there to jazz things up a bit. You don’t explain a lot from it. You definitely don’t expect to be completely blown away, swept off your feet, shaken to the core type results. Yet, what you need to understand is, that this documentary is not “plain” per se. It simply rids itself of all unnecessary frills and bows. It just, says it like it is. Pretty much the way Rodriguez did in his songs. The simplicity of the documentary makes you concentrate on the message, the story and this is what draws you in. And the story is such a strong one that you know what? You don’t need the frills. You don’t even miss them. And THAT is one in the eye for some more “commercial” production if I ever saw one.

I am so grateful to this documentary. No, I really am. Firstly, the music – almost exclusively original songs by Rodriguez – is AMAZING. Why this man never became an icon of his age is beyond me. And ironically, these days it’s almost impossible to find an actual album so, this film is actually the largest collection of his songs you can probably find. Mind you, I’m sure this film will have a soundtrack released, right? Right? God I need to check on that actually. But apart from the music – though I find it truly difficult to set the music aside all together, you will also get to know about a truly extraordinary artist. The kind of person I am genuinely relieved to know still exists. If you think I’m simply bending over backwards to not give spoilers, by the way, you are wrong. I’m just… Staying true to the story. The mystery needs to stay. You need to take the journey yourself. Well… What are you waiting for? Start walking!... 

ON HOW LIFE CAN CHANGE FROM "ONE SECOND TO THE NEXT"

Something occurred to me as I was watching One second to the next. We really, really need to get more “big” directors to make public information and safety type films. No, really. Because if they did, we would watch them. They would hit home. And it would do one heck of a lot more good. You’ll know what I mean when you watch One second to the next. I mean, I don’t drive, but I do see the attraction of texting while driving. I also see how “naff” the info films are. And ok, a lot of us actually have the common sense and sensibility to not do silly stuff like that but for those who cannot resist temptation… Just watch this documentary. It’s a short fella, only just over half an hour. I’ll bet good money it’ll scare you back to the straight and narrow for good though.

One Second to the next is a typical Werner Herzog documentary. This is meant as a warning and to whet your appetite. I love the work of Herzog but typically you exit the experience feeling as if you have been hit by a truck. And while this is a slightly unfortunate euphemism for this particular work, it completely describes the feeling it gives. It may seem surprising at first as the whole work is a little more than a series of tastefully edited talking head style interviews. Interviews with victims and perpetrators of traffic accidents that were caused by a driver texting and driving. As is typical of Herzog, we completely and impartially see both sides of the tale; the misery and regret of the drivers who have more often than not accidentally taken human life and the grieving families or the victims, left mere shells of the people they used to be. We hear a series of accidents, each accident completed with police photos and a report from the responding officer when possible. Seriously, I defy you to hold back your tears. I couldn’t…

Now, there isn’t much to say about this because… Well, Herzog has done something truly brilliant in stripping back all the trappings, all the frills and leaving us with the story. Gone are “re-enactments”, gone are statistics and reports. There isn’t even a narrator. There is nothing to distract us from the fact that people died. In some cases children as young as three. And this could have been prevented by one, ridiculously simple choice. The choice to look where you’re going. It puts us face to face with the tragedy that is the loss of any human life and, much like the agonised perpetrators and victims / families of victims, there is nowhere to hide from the wave of emotion. The only thing is we can shake ourselves, have a cup of coffee, maybe write a blog post about it – maybe not – but the point is we can get on with our lives. They however, cannot.  I think the least we can do under the circumstances is face up to that pain squarely and honestly, without averting our eyes in any way. That and not texting while driving.

Ok, this post is actually a little different from the rest or previous ones. Because I normally suggest the films and then leave you to your own devices as far as finding them go. I do recognise though that this is not your average film. We are lucky that one of my favourite websites on the interwebs, Film School Rejects, has said film on their website, ready for your delectation. If you like the sound of the above film, this is the link to follow : CLICK HERE

And if you didn’t like the sound of it, well, follow it anyway.   It’s an awesome site with news, reviews and other short films. If you’re a movie buff – well  you probably know about it already actually – but if not… well, it’s high time you discovered it!

GET UP, STAND UP... FOR "MARLEY"

Ok, in these times of political turmoil and uncertainty, what better man to remember than Bob Marley, who brought us immortal songs like “Get Up, Stand Up”.  The combination of his unbelievable musical talent, his Rastafarian spiritualism and social messages made him an immortal musician, a phenomenon if you will, that will live on in the collective consciousness for ever. Or pretty damn close to for ever. But we must not forget that Bob Marley was, at the end of the day, a man. As you may imagine not exactly a simple man, not a person that one could find easy to understand. But if we make a bit of an effort to understand the man behind the myth, it might deepen our understanding. Give us more to think about, as it were. So let us take a step behind the curtain and see what the true Bob Marley was like.

Now I say “step behind the curtain” but of course, Bob Marley was quite famous for his openness in all things. And as a public figure his life story such as it is, is well known. So I don’t think it makes much sense to summarise it in this second paragraph traditionally reserved for the plot. Besides, this would retract considerably from the effect of the documentary. Marley is a wonderful, candid account of Bob Marley’s life, starting from his earliest years and going right through to his death. It mixes honest, no hold barred interviews with the people closest to him including his children and original footage of both concerts and interviews with the man himself. That Bob Marley was a musical genius goes without saying. It isn’t even worth discussing. But what of his faults? He was many things, but an angel was not one of them…

And then there is the “social” side of his life. By this I don’t mean his social life. I mean the social messages imbued in his songs. His spirituality. Marley’s life wasn’t an easy one. Growing up as a poor, mixed-race youth in Jamaica meant that he not only had to contend with poverty and the prejudice brought up by not being white, he also had to contend with not exactly being black either. It is possibly this rather harsh start in life that made one of his main social messages the call to fight against injustice, to struggle for peace, unity and harmony. For people to bypass all prejudices that life, “the system” or whatever you like to call it has imposed on us and come together to struggle for the things in life that are truly important. And it is this immortal message that has made his music so timeless.

Although it is sad that the message is still needed and does not happen “automatically” as it were, I think Bob would be happy to know that out there in the world there are people listening to his music, picking up the message and above and beyond just spreading it, leading by action and example. Yeah, you know what I’m talking about… 

A STORY THAT NEEDS TO BE HEARD : "SAVING FACE"

There are problems with award ceremonies like Oscars®. I mean, I’m not going to go through the entire list right now, but one thing I’m thinking of is categories like Best Documentary. The “big” categories get so much attention that some rather brilliant things are being awarded, yet completely ignored. I bumped into “Saving Face” when I was lazily switching channels one evening. “Oscar Winning Documentary” it said. To my embarrassment, I had never heard of it. I was embarrassed for two reasons, firstly because I’m supposed to be a film expert of sorts. Secondly, the story the documentary tells us is simply so tragic and so serious that I just felt that, you know. I should have known about it. Maybe I can make up for that by putting it up on the blog. Hopefully I can.

The documentary follows Dr Mohammed Jawad, one of the top plastic surgeons in the UK. He heads to Pakistan, where every year over 100 people (and that’s only the ones we know about) are victims of acid attacks. Acid is readily available in Pakistan as it is one of the products used to work with cotton, one of the most important agricultural products of the country. This means that it is the weapon of choice for violent husbands or other family members to use on women. These women suffer terrible facial scarring from the acid which is in itself debilitating and very hard to cope with, but the disfigurement also gives them physical pain and health issues. Dr Jawad, and the audience, follows some of their stories.

I cannot begin to accurately describe how difficult it is to watch this documentary. There were bits I could barely watch from crying. I feel it is incredibly important for documentaries like this to be made. The first step in tackling this kind of problem is raising awareness. And I mean, I knew acid attacks happened in Pakistan.  But in this matter, I have the slight advantage of having lived in a more eastern country for most of my life. And even there, it rarely makes headline news. The further west you come, the less you hear about it. But even the concept of “they have acid attacks in Pakistan” isn’t enough to describe the horrors that these attacks produce. And the victims of the attacks are fighting back, they’re trying anyway. Laws significantly punishing the perpetrators of these attacks significantly are relatively new. The victims of these attacks often have to fight great social stigma, not least because of their looks that have been drastically altered. Slowly, a few brave women are taking the attackers to court, trying to get them convicted. Then there are people like Dr Jawad who do wonderful things for the victims they can reach. But there is still so much to be done. Especially considering these are just the ones we know about, and most of them still go unreported.

I feel that we really owe it to these women to at least listen to their story. Who knows maybe you might be motivated to actively do something, even if it’s just a small donation? But even if you don’t, at least knowledge of what is going on is spreading. Awareness and education is the one way to fight this. And just because it may well be the other end of the earth from where we live, well… That is no reason not to care… 

WELL, IT DOES MAKE THE WORLD GO ROUND! "MASTERS OF MONEY"

Ok, I decided to try something a little different this week.  Just a tiny bit different, you know. I mean, the series I’m going to talk about is technically a series of documentaries so I’m not that far off the mark. However, they are less cinematic and more of the educational sort. Not surprising really, seeing as they were prepared by the Open University. See, but the thing is, given the turbulent times we live in, I think these are necessary and useful. If only because I feel we really, truly need to understand the world we live in. More specifically the economic situation we are in. Given the fact that the global recession (being global and all) pretty much touched us all in some form or another, I think this is important. Because these documentaries aren’t about some flashy banking scandal or something. They are about serious economists. And more specifically, how their scientific theories could be used to explain and potentially solve the global crisis we are in today. This documentary presents the three main “schools of thought” and invites you to make your own decision at the end of the day.

Now, the documentary is made up of three episodes of one hour each, each one dedicated to a particular thinker and economist. We study the theories of Keynes, Hayek (who, I admit to my shame I had never heard of despite my original International Relations training) and the inevitable Karl Marx. The episodes are biographical, as documentaries are want to be, but also contain a heavy-ish dose of their theoretical work as well. The main aim of the programme is to take these theories and apply them to the crisis today. Every thinker has (or rather would have, seeing as they have all been dead for a while now) a suggestion that is radically different from the others. You will not only gain a lot of general culture through these programmes you may also gain a deeper understanding of what is going on around us. The recession isn’t over yet, as you probably well know.

Well, like I said, this is one to be watched for educational value more than entertainment. It is heavy on the economics and its main aim is to put across economic theory, not juicy titbits from the lives of the three men. However, if you do want to start thinking about these things, or want to learn a bit more, refresh your memory etc, these programmes are for you. I mean, hand on heart. Numbers and I have never got along. I get on even less with complex economic theory. Give me words; I can pretty much get them to do anything. Give me numbers – and anything more complex than basic sums – my IQ usually drops to about 10. No, not the IQ of a ten-year old. 10 on the measurement scale. Given this fact, the Open University seems to have pretty much idiot-proofed the documentaries. No matter how familiar you may (or may not) be with economics, you can pretty much be sure you will work away with at least a basic understanding of the theories discussed and how they apply to the crisis today. I mean, it got me thinking about economics. And that is most DEFINITELY an achievement. 

A TRUE STORY ABOUT THE DEEP AND SCARY THINGS IN LIFE : "INTO THE ABYSS"

Werner Herzog has always been a filmmaker I have greatly admired. I am especially impressed by his documentaries and the original way he approaches rather original and out of the ordinary topics. I had watched Grizzly Man with these feelings and so was looking forward to watching Into the Abyss that, on a primary level appealed to my (admittedly rather bizarre) love of true crime, and on a secondary and far more important level was, as you can either guess or already know, a consideration on capital punishment, a subject I feel strongly about (as in I am strongly against it). I was, therefore, interested in seeing the take Herzog had chosen on the topic, even though I could well imagine it wasn’t going to exactly be a “happy” filmgoing experience… And I must say, Into the Abyss could not be more aptly named. The “topics” of the documentary are two young villains; Jason Burquett and Michael Perry. Their crime, murder of three people, one woman and two 16 year-old boys. The motive? The theft of a car. Yes, the only reason three innocent people had to day was that Burquett and Perry wanted the red Camaro belonging to a woman they barely knew. It would, in this story especially, be very easy to argue a case for capital punishment in the face of this rather senseless triple homicide. When we talk to the surviving family members, the devastation brought upon them by the loss and their pain, we cannot help but sympathize. But then, we turn to look at Burquett and Perry’s lives. The two young men were about 18 at the time of the murder. 10 years have gone by when the documentary is being filmed. Jason Burquett is serving a life sentence without parole for at least 40 years, Michael Perry has been sentenced to death, and has literally days left to live – all channels of appeal have run out. Burquett comes from a broken home in a poor neighborhood, his father is a habitual criminal, his mother is disabled and can barely look after him and his siblings. Of course this is no excuse for the crime, but you can see quite clearly that the chances of his growing up to be a lawyer or an engineer were pretty darned slim. Burquett is a little more frank about all that has happened. Perry claims to the last the murders were Burquett’s doing and he had no knowledge of it – even though DNA evidence claims otherwise. Herzog backgrounds all of this against testimonies from the prison chaplain and an ex-captain of an execution team and in the end leaves us, staring into what is in effect an abyss of hard lives, wrong choices and the unnecessary loss of innocent life that is followed by great pain… Herzog himself is quite frank about his sentiments on the matter right from the first moment of the documentary. He doesn’t like Perry – he says this to his face in an interview. And yet he is strongly against the death penalty. And he does a wonderful job of showing us why. One of the most touching testimonies comes – somewhat surprisingly – from Jason Burquett’s father. Mr. Burquett Sr. is in the same penitentiary as his son – although in different units – and is serving what is, in effect, a life sentence. Jason’s older brother Chris is also in prison. Mr. Burquett Sr. tells us how much he regrets not having been a proper father to his children. He talks of the day he testified for his son during the sentencing and recalling a moment when he was handcuffed to his own son so they could be both transported he points out of his own accord that “one doesn’t sink much lower than that”. On the other hand we have the testimony of someone like ??, the mother and sister of two of the victims. Their death was the last straw in a series of family tragedies that have shaken her so fundamentally that I cannot begin to imagine how she will ever be completely healed, and for what? Simply the theft of a car… The prison chaplain’s testimony makes up the “prologue”. I will not give too much away on that, but I will say this much; you have to have a heart of stone not to cry at least a little… And the end of the film shows the “nitty gritty” of an execution as told by the former execution team captain; former, as a nervous breakdown forced him to leave the job at the cost of his pension – he had started off life accepting capital punishment as just another fact of life, but had ended up vehemently opposed to it… So what is the solution? What is the answer? These are all, of course, questions to be debated in discussed in all countries that still have the death penalty. But Into the Abyss is a frank look at the pain that surrounds this sad affair and reminds us quite clearly that the whole thing is a tad more complicated than “some people just don’t deserve to live”.

ALTERNATIVE LIVES AND A PERSONAL HISTORY : "THE GLEANERS AND I"

Those of you who are interested in French New Wave cinema (and yes, I realize there are not many of us out there) will recognize the name of Agnes Varda as one of the forerunners of the movement, and a very original artist. Apart from being one of the only female directors in the movement, Varda has a very particular outlook on things, an outlook that I find has become more and more openly expressed in her later works. Personally I enjoy her later films better. Semi-autobiographical documentaries in style, most of them are recorded accounts of a perspective on life and everyday things that you would never capture without taking the trouble to step into Varda’s shoes. The gleaners and I is just one such documentary. Basically, the gleaners and I is a documentary about “gleaning”. Now if you are as lost as I initially was as to the meaning of this, let me explain it to you before we progress any further. Usually after farmers gather their crops there are some left in the fields, for whatever reason. The produce may not have been selected because it is overly ripe, not the right size, sheer negligence… Or alternately, a lot of large companies, after sorting through vegetables or fruits in factories, discard a lot of the produce for reasons such as shape and size. This discarded produce is usually dumped back into the fields. It is people’s legal right (as Varda demonstrates with the aid of lawyers in case there are any cynics out there) to come and take this produce free of charge. The practice varies slightly from place to place and region to region and of course like everything it has changed a good deal over time. Varda examines gleaning and its history in the countryside first, then moves on to the city, examining topics as varied as dumpster diving and the homeless, Varda sets about tracking down the gleaners of the big cities and uncovers a whole host of various life stories in the process. I know what you’re thinking. I know because I initially thought it too. This had the potential to be fascinating, but it also had the potential to be categorically deadly. There was an inherent risk to sitting down and watching it. I, sadly (or in fact happily as it turned out) had no choice. It was obligatory viewing for a module at university. I could try and briefly chronicle all the life stories Varda shows us in the documentary, but even that would not capture its flavor. I could tell you how the rambling journey of the camera crew is interspersed with Varda’s musings on life, old age and even her own mortality. But that would not capture Varda’s spirit. You really have to sit down and watch this. You will learn, you will laugh and you will think about things that never occurred to you before. A true little gem if there ever was one.

AND FINISH OF WITH SOME WORLD HISTORY : KHODORKOVSKY

I think quite a few of us have at least heard of Mikail Khordorkovsky, once up and coming businessman in Soviet Russia, now infamous convict and buzzword for civil rights campaigners. If taken at complete and utter face value, the man’s story has nothing really original about it; some big businessman who, in the face of Russia’s budding capitalist system, thought he could get away with skimming some taxes – and failed. But German filmmaker Cyril Tuschi takes a closer look at Khodorkovsky’s life story and begins to realize that there are – or surely must be – some things in this story that are not quite as they seem. You see Mikail Khodorkovsky didn’t start life off as the perfect communist – and you would think he well may have done, growing up in Soviet Russia. However this was definitely not the case, he was a member of the youth league in university. He then switched to business. He was shrewd, a born leader and businessman and over the years became one of the richest men in the world. Then, scandal broke out. A lot of people around him were arrested, others had to flee abroad. On a trip to America Khodorkovsky was informed that if were to return to Russia, he too would be arrested. He returned as scheduled, despite this knowledge. ?? ‘s reason for filming the documentary is to try and understand why Khordakovsky did this. I mean, surely the man didn’t actually choose to go to prison… Did he?... Ok, I have to admit, this is a bit of a specialist subject. I mean, documentaries in general are supposed to involve – in popular culture at any rate – animals or feats of nature. This is a strictly economics and politics kinda deal. And it may, to some, border slightly on the side of the “conspiracy theory”. But then again, it is a well-known fact that politics and business go hand in hand in the real world – even though we like to pretend it doesn’t – and this is even more the case in post-soviet Russia. There is a lot to learn here; Khordakovsky is a straightforward account of an affair that risks being oversimplified. I must stress that you don’t need any kind of “specialist knowledge” to be able to follow the documentary; but an interest in the topic will help (I studied International Relations in my stormy youth, and it has had lasting effects on my tastes and outlook on things). In my particular case I knew categorically nothing about the man or the events surrounding his arrest, I was taken in by the blurb and the time slot in the Istanbul film festival fitted my schedule. And personally, I felt I learnt a lot. Highly recommended.

DOCUMENTARY ON A DOCUMENTARY : "GRIZZLY MAN"

Ok , I rather like this one. It’s kind of neat – or I think so anyway. Werner Herzog’s Grizzly Man is a documentary. It’s a documentary on a documentary. No, I’m not trying to be clever or anything, this is real life. Herzog looks back on the life of Timothy Treadwell who spent the best part of 15 years living in the Alaskan wilderness campaigning for the protection of wild animals and specifically Grizzly bears. A greater part of his work involved filming the animals in their natural habitat and talking about them later, giving information to the general public.
And it has to be said at this point, Treadwell was quite a character. A one-time actor (never completely comfortable in his own skin and going as far as pretending he was Australian to most of his friends until his death) and a recovering alcoholic with much darkness in his past, he found his own form of salvation in the months he spent out in the wilderness. His work was very evidently well-meaning but none-the-less controversial. A lot of the natives of the area thought that Treadwell was in fact crossing a boundary and this was not only disrespectful to nature on a spiritual level but detrimental to the animals he was trying to protect as his constant presence made them used to humans and thus easier to catch and kill. Herzog presents as objective a look at he can at the life of an extraordinary man who literally lived and died for the animals.
Herzog’s Grizzly Man is thought provoking to say the least. Whatever else he was, Treadwell had the capacity to make you think. As one watches the footage – carefully edited post-mortem by Herzog and his team – one cannot, for example, help but notice Treadwell’s dark past seeping out. His approach to the animals is almost that of a child not an adult man. It could be argued that this was done purposefully to engage children and the general public (Treadwell spent the other half of the tear touring the schools and giving talks to children about conservation) but one doesn’t need to be overly observant to realize that it isn’t all an act. He gets frustrated with park authorities (who are not doing all they can to protect the animals) and goes off on a frustrated, violent rant about them littered with all kinds of insult. Out of the blue, a short but intensely homophobic rant finds its way into the footage. It could be argued that Treadwell was not a very pleasant man. From the footage, Herzog’s sympathy to him is very evident. But the admirable thing is that Grizzly Man doesn’t try to paint a pretty picture, it is very much “warts and all”. If nothing else, this film will get you thinking about Treadwell specifically and conservation in general. And even if, like me, you end up thinking that Treadwell was a rather unpleasant and rather troubled man, it is important to remember that his intentions concerning nature, animals and conservation were all in the right place, even if the ways he went about realizing them were questionable.

AND A LITTLE EDUCATIONAL SOMETHING : RAIN OF THE CHILDREN

It has been a shamefully long time since a documentary graced these humble pages. The main reason for that is the fact that I simply don’t watch enough of them. But even though they are few and far between, I try to share the good ones as they come along. I mean, it is never too late to learn something new, right? Besides, Rain of the Children isn’t what you might call “didactic”. I mean yes, you learn a lot from it and it gives you a lot to think about but it mainly carries the spirit of storytelling. Oh yes. In fact, it combines two different stories to be precise. One is a history lesson, a fascinating story about the history of New Zeeland. And the second is a story of the present day, the effects of this history in the life of one old woman and her son. For the life of Puhi, the old woman in question, is not only closely linked with historical events of Maori history but are quite extraordinary in their own right… The best thing about the documentary is that the film maker Vincent Ward, who sees Puhi and her son Niki as family, doesn’t seek to “educate” or “give a message”. He merely attempts to honor an old woman who is dear to him and has now sadly passed away, and share the quite extraordinary story of her life.
Vincent Ward meets Puhi for the first time in 1985, when he is 21. A young and intrepid filmmaker, as far as I can understand it, he is touring round New Zeeland, his homeland, in attempt to discover something, without being quite sure what it is he is seeking. On his travels, he comes across Puhi, an old woman of over 80 years old at the time who lives with her adult son Niki. He ends up staying with them for two years, filming them during his entire stay. On hearing of Puhi’s death, he returns to the place where the extraordinary threesome first met and traces back Puhi’s life. During the course of this long and complicated story, intertwined, as I said, with Maori history, we learn a lot. About Maori history and culture, of course, but also about the strength of the human spirit, the effects of grief, the power of beliefs and much, much more…
The documentary is in effect a biography. And at first, we are slightly confused (I mean I was) as to why we were watching Puhi’s biography in particular. I mean, every life conceals a story, but why make a film about Puhi? What would interest us, people who didn’t know her at all? I was wrong in thinking this… First of all, the first half of the documentary. This was an eye-opener for me. I mean yes, we do basically know about how the settlers first came to Australia and New Zeeland. How the natives had no immunity to the European diseases and died in their thousands. How the “white men” (that would be us) took over the land. Try, if you can, hearing these stories in detail, from the natives perspective. Ward makes sure his narratives are objective: whenever possible the story is told using old photographs of the actual people and events and witness testimonies of people who were actually there, Puhi as well but not only her. Naturally, there are re-constructions too, but they are not the primary source of information. We meet the great Maori leaders, including the self-proclaimed prophet Te Rua. Seeing the black and white photos, and then sometimes listening to the people in those photos, Maori history comes alive.. And it ain’t pleasant folks. Steel yourself for that one. But then, when we arrive in due course to the present, Ward doesn’t give up his “sense of reality”. The effects of the various events in the first half of the documentary are narrated mainly with the aid of the footage of Puhi, filmed by the director during those two years they lived together. I will not go into details, because this is a voyage of discovery you really have to make for yourselves but keep the tissues handy. Even the director himself chokes back tears sometimes as he tells the story, a story obviously very important to him. And through the clear and honest narration of the film, we are drawn right into it. I mean, I know that generally speaking documentaries are meant to be “educational” in one way or another. But who said they cannot have emotion as well? Rain of the children will educate you in matters of the human soul as well as history. You will not regret watching it.

FOOTBALL, CRIME AND "THE TWO ESCOBARS"

So, I keep banging on about true stories but let’s face it, there is a painfully small number of documentaries actually featured on this blog. Why? Honestly, it’s because my archive doesn’t contain enough of them. The said festival (yes, as I adored every single film I went to; you will be reading about my antics here for a while, he he =) ) contained a documentary section too, but there were so many classics and old masters I wanted to look into, by the time I had my festival program ready there was very, VERY little “free space” left for the documentaries. There were a lot of good ones, but this one stood out for me – and it was the only one I actually managed to squeeze into my schedule.
Now, when I told my aunt about this one later, I started off by saying “Well, it’s a film about the drug cartels and their connections with football in Columbia in the ‘80s and ‘90s. My aunt burst out laughing and wondered out loud what on earth I could have seen in it. I thus started explaining, loudly, on my mobile, in the middle of the street and I can’t help thinking back and realizing I must have looked kinda ridiculous… But here is what I said…
Now, Columbia as you know is not one of the richest countries in the world. It is, however, famous for other things. Cocaine. Drug trafficking. Violence. But at one time, not so long ago, they were also famous for football… It was a short period and the Columbia national team shone briefly but was never seen again. Among them was young Andres Escobar, a star player. He had absolutely nothing to do with Pablo Escobar though. That is to say, they were not related or anything. At the time however, drug cartels and football were pretty well linked… Think about it, football, ticket sales etc are a wonderful way to launder money. The documentary informs us that the drug barons of Columbia noticed this, and united this interest with their true love, nay passion for football – especially in the case of Pablo Escobar – to become closely involved with the teams of their country. True this meant that the teams were into money laundering up to their eyeballs but it also meant that the clubs had money… To pay their star players high salaries, to hire foreign coaches, get equipment. Raw talent in Columbia was plentiful, and with the influx of money, Columbian football began to shine… Unfortunately, this golden period was soon to end…
This is a fascinating documentary about a corner of the world and various topics you wouldn’t necessarily have thought of if not pushed. I am not a football fan, nor am I particularly interested in drug cartels, but it was still fascinating to watch. It also gives one a very realistic image of why football is such a big deal in developing countries. Countries were life is tough. You need something positive, the normal people all need something positive to build their identity on. They need to hear good news, rejoice at something. This is why football is such a big deal… 90 minutes to forget your life and race towards victory and glory… Sad, thought provoking, definitely worth finding and watching…