Archive for the ‘Documentary’ Category

Cool It

January 20, 2012

At breakneck pace, Ondi Timoner’s “Cool It” profiles the controversial environmentalist Bjorn Lomborg and, in so doing, tries to encompass the myriad controversies and solutions that surround the global-warming debate. As author of “The Skeptical Environmentalist,” Lomborg has consistently asserted that the attention global-warming receives in popular culture and the academia is wildly out of proportion to the problem itself. Moreover, he argues that the billions dedicated to lowering carbon emissions will yield correspondingly miniscule results and that there are far more pressing problems – poverty, education, malaria – that instead demand our focus.

As head of the Copenhagen Consensus Center, a think-tank devoted to prioritizing and finding sustainable solutions to global problems, Lomborg continues to argue for a rational, realistic attitude to global warming. By consulting economists and environmental experts, the Center seeks to find smart, creative solutions that depend more on grassroots ingenuity and less on corporate strategies (cap and trade, carbon tax, etc.), which – as “Cool It” points out – would only result in corruption and mismanagement.

Timoner starts off with a quickly drawn sketch of Lomborg himself – a bright, young, informed individual who, it seems, represents a voice of reason in the often-hysterical climate debate. Here, the filmmaker goes for easy bids for sympathy in somewhat cheesy segments showing, for instance, Lomborg spending a day with his ailing mother or sitting distraught at his desk while Lomborg’s voiceover narrates how dejected he felt by the hostility the scientific community directed at his book.

Indeed, “The Skeptical Environmentalist” was seen as a broadside against the U.N.’s PR campaign to make global warming on par with our worst crises – a campaign that reached a fever pitch with the success of the Oscar-winning, Al Gore-starring “An Inconvenient Truth.” In a series of persuasive, balanced rebuttals, Lomborg addresses all of Gore’s claims in “Truth” and proves that, well, they weren’t that true after all: The science was skewed. Sea levels aren’t going to rise so catastrophically, for instance, and the plight of polar bears isn’t due to melting ice caps but, rather, overpopulation and rampant hunting.

In identifying the best strategies for lowering carbon emissions, Lomborg interviews several inventors and scientists as they weigh the pros and cons of everything from wind and solar power to more exotic concepts like geo-engineering. Bemoaning the shoddily made levees that caused the Hurricane Katrina disaster, he meets with experts in New Orleans and The Netherlands to discuss viable, high-tech engineering solutions that could prevent another such event from happening.

That this documentary is solution-oriented rather than fear-oriented as so many recent ones (“Inside Job,” “Countdown to Zero”) have been is itself a reason for touting it. The film is packed wall to wall with fascinating concepts and novel solutions and has an intelligent, conscientious central figure in Lomborg to guide us through it all. But Timoner’s ambition to cover so much ground and in so little time (her film runs only 85 minutes) is its main undoing: Intent to keep galloping forward, many of the issues discussed in the film’s latter half are glossed over, and we feel as if we’ve watched an infomercial rather than a substantive essay on the subject. A two-time Sundance Film Festival award winner, Timoner has previously proven herself an astute filmmaker (watch “Dig!” as evidence), but “Cool It’s” frenetic construction undermines her best intentions – and Lomborg’s. It would’ve served the film to heed the advice of its own title.

Grade: C+

Directed by: Ondi Timoner
Written by: Terry Botwick, Sarah Gibson, Bjorn Lomborg, Ondi Timoner
Cast: Bjorn Lomborg

Position Among the Stars

January 20, 2012

Preceded by the internationally acclaimed “The Eye of the Day” (2001) and “The Shape of the Moon” (2004), filmmaker Leonard Retel Helmrich’s “Position Among the Stars” continues to expand his portrait of the hardscrabble Shamsuddin family, trying to make ends meet in a poor community in the Indonesian capital, Jakarta. Taken on its own merits, Helmrich’s documentary is a cinematic marvel, both for its intricate enmeshing of personal and societal themes and for its one-of-a-kind style.

The central tension in “Stars” is really one of place: While the family’s matriarch, Rumidjah, favors her ancestral home in a remote village, her sons – Dwi and Bakti – and her granddaughter Tari prefer the more exciting opportunities in the city. Whether in the village or in the city, the Shamsuddins are confined by their poverty, and the choices that limited resources and education affords them.

“Position Among the Stars” picks up with Rumidjah following Bakti from her village to Jakarta. Besides serving as an unpaid city functionary, Bakti wiles away his days tending to his fighting fish. His wife earns a meager income running a food counter while his niece, the teenager Tari, just graduated from high school, seems utterly unfocused on her future. While Rumidjah is eager for her to continue her education, Tari’s commitment is half-hearted, motivated more by a desire for change and escape than by genuine ambition.

Still, Rumidjah presses on in her crusade to nurture her family. She puts up her own home as collateral against a college loan for Tari, a gesture that we can’t help but feel grave misgivings about. After she takes her 8-year-old grandson Bagus to her Catholic Church to pray, Rumidjah gets flak from her son Dwi, a Muslim. The moment pains us because we realize that the sole motive for Rumidjah’s church visit was to guide her grandson – a boy growing up with little parenting – towards positive values using the one resource she’s most familiar with, her religion. Another occasion shows Rumidjah lamenting Bakti’s callousness towards his wife, Sri, and his lack of life direction. Somehow, in spite of her heartbreak and disappointments, Rumidjah trudges on in the face of family breakdown and in a world so transformed that she hardly recognizes it.

What makes “Position Among the Stars” such an astonishing experience is the uncanny rhythm that Helmrich’s camerawork and Jasper Naaijkens’ editing achieve as they bring a marginalized culture dazzlingly to life. The filmmaker’s so-called Single Shot Cinema technique allows the viewer to become fully immersed in the family’s moment-by-moment interactions, as the camera travels among members seamlessly and with striking intimacy. Combined with Naaijkens’ spare, nimble editing, the fluidly moving shots of the documentary – each one absorbing gestures, silences, conversations and the textures of everyday life – produce a cinematic feast of sensory information.

“Position Among the Stars” embraces a wealth of universal themes. The crushing effects of poverty, the seduction of materialism, the death of tradition, the lure of religious militancy on the poor and teenage drift and rebellion to name a few, all are woven into the film’s richly crafted fabric. A mesmerizing odyssey across a landscape of conflicting values – rural and urban, old and young, rich and poor, political and religious – Helmrich’s film ranks as one of the documentary form’s most sublime recent achievements.

Grade: A

Directed/Written by: Leonard Retel Helmrich
Starring: Rumidjah Shamsuddin, Bakti, Tari, Sri, Dwi, Bagus, Tumisah

Magic Trip: Ken Kesey’s Search for a Kool Place

January 19, 2012

Using a colorful, freewheeling style, “Magic Trip: Ken Kesey’s Search for a Kool Place” chronicles the eponymous author’s famously rambunctious cross-country road-trip in 1964. Dismayed by the conformism of suburban, capitalistic America and by the violence up-ending the nation’s cultural life (Vietnam, the Kennedy Assassination, etc.), Kesey – the acclaimed scribe behind “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest” – and a crew of ragtag friends, including celebrated speed-freak Neal Cassady – converted a ramshackle school bus into a multi-colored “Pleasure Palace” and took to the road. Their destination: the World’s Fair in New York City.

Equipped with 16mm cameras and sound equipment, the group – which dubbed itself the Merry Band of Pranksters – set out to make both a cinematic scrapbook of their journey and a freeform collage of America as they felt and experienced it. In spite of forty years of trying to assemble all the footage together into a coherent whole, the Pranksters’ cinematic record never became a finished piece.

In “Magic Trip,” writer-directors Alex Gibney and Alison Ellwood use the existing footage to present a chronology of Kesey and company’s journey. Voice-over actors playing each of the Pranksters narrate the unfolding story, providing captions, so to speak, of the mayhem up on the screen – from police stops and bus breakdowns to roadside acid trips and detours to check in with Larry McMurtry and Timothy Leary. There are interesting cameos by a disinterested, beer-swilling Jack Kerouac and a game, cheerful Allen Ginsberg, all of it part of a vivid and adoring evocation of an oft-celebrated era.

“Magic Trip” frames itself around Kesey’s use of LSD, beginning with his participating in government-run LSD experiments as a Stanford student and continuing through his peak years as literary icon of the counterculture. But, as all stories about mavericks go, The Man eventually caught up with Kesey: He was arrested for marijuana possession and his drug use became the subject of public scrutiny. Kesey served jail time, started warning kids about the dangers of LSD and retired to a quiet, off-the-radar life in Oregon.

The message of disillusionment, of romantic ideals compromised runs throughout “Magic Trip,” through the Pranksters’ various voice-over confessions. But where Gibney and Ellwood err is in believing that youthful disillusionment or the story of the 1960’s is somehow compelling in and of itself. But it isn’t.

Our cultural narrative is, by now, stuffed to the gills with stories of how special the 1960s were, and “Magic Trip” really banks on viewers becoming automatically charmed by the material per se – this is a unique historical artifact, to be sure, but one which reveals nothing exceptional about the personalities, the times or the themes explored.

We don’t need the Pranksters to tell us life is full of shattered dreams, reality checks and compromises. When the Pranksters reach New York City and attend the World’s Fair, are we to be surprised or saddened that the destination just isn’t what it was cracked up to be? That life is about the journey not the destination is not a novel idea and the 1960s hardly have a monopoly on it. Purveyors of the 1960s need to understand that acid-tripping Pranksters on a road-trip in a psychedelic school-bus are a goofy representation of a vibrant time, but, frankly, nothing that anyone does or discovers here over the course of the “Magic Trip’s” tedious 107 minutes is really that revelatory of the human condition or the ‘60s themselves.

Grade: C

Written/Directed by: Alex Gibney & Alison Ellwood
Cast: Stanley Tucci (Interviewer), Ken Kesey, Neal Cassady, The Merry Band of Pranksters, Jack Kerouac, Allen Ginsberg

Conan O’Brien Can’t Stop

June 23, 2011

Rodman Flender captures the exhaustion and exhilaration of life on the road in “Conan O’Brien Can’t Stop,” a documentary chronicling the grueling two-month, 30-city tour that O’Brien embarked on after he severed ties with his longtime employer, NBC. The network’s 2010 decision to reinstate Jay Leno as host of “The Tonight Show” resulted in a p.r. fiasco for NBC and stirred up a media dust cloud of outrage against both Leno and NBC. For his part, O’Brien’s ouster from the show left him feeling angry, abandoned, humiliated. To add salt to those wounds, NBC stipulated that O’Brien could not appear on TV, radio or the Internet for six months after his departure.

As much to maintain his connection with his fan base and to keep his creative gears turning as to get his anti-NBC ya-ya’s out, O’Brien dives into the demands of putting his show together. Flender captures the banter between O’Brien and his staff along with rehearsals involving backup singer/dancers, O’Brien’s house band, his sidekick Andy Richter and O’Brien himself as they strut, jam, wail and wisecrack their way through a multi-media comedy-musical revue. “Conan O’Brien Can’t Stop” is devoted largely to the tour itself, documenting in brisk, illuminating fashion the professional, logistical and physical challenges of putting on a road show.

Much of what Flender captures is genuinely funny. Some is flat-out annoying. Rating in the former is the rapport between O’Brien and Richter: Even in their off-hand moments, they’re hilarious together. You can’t manufacture O’Brien and Richter’s kind of comic chemistry; it’s there only in the most enduring and inventive comedy teams. And when he’s on a roll, O’Brien is a brilliant improvisational comedian – always has been – throwing out one zinger after another at anyone in his sights. Scenes in which he’s riffing with fans and backstage visitors like actor Jack McBrayer – who finds himself on the receiving end of an ad-libbed volley of O’Brien barbs – pack unexpected laughs.

Yet the culture of celebrity worship that Flender’s documentary reveals also brings with it the unfortunate side effect of alienating viewers. O’Brien comes off as the ego-driven ringmaster of his own traveling circus while his employees and followers come off as adulating sycophants. So much so that we get the impression that this merry, tight-knit band of industry professionals has found in O’Brien its winning lottery ticket – one that enjoys the fringe benefits of much media and public adoration – in a business where heartbreak and failure is one misfortune away. And these guys are clutching their ticket tight.

As the documentary’s title proclaims, Conan O’Brien can’t stop. If there’s a show on – on any stage or in any room – O’Brien has a compulsive drive to be at the center of it. We see how exhausted he is show after show, how he wrestles with pre-show anxieties and post-show exhaustion and subjects himself to endless self-scrutiny and -criticism. Through much of the documentary, he’s clearly drained yet he finds the will to power through it all. “Conan O’Brien Can’t Stop” depicts a fiercely talented performer who has created – whether by his own labors or his celebrity status – a temple to his own cult. While the resulting spectacle may be distasteful in its egotism and indulgence, there’s no doubting the drive and devotion of a man for whom the world truly is a stage.

Grade: C+

Directed by: Rodman Flender
Written by: n/a
Cast: Conan O’Brien, Andy Richter, Jimmy Vivino, Mike Merritt, James Wormworth, Jerry Vivino, Mark “Love Man” Pender, Richie “La Bamba” Rosenberg

Senna

June 19, 2011

When setting out to make “Senna,” his documentary about the namesake racecar driver, director Asif Kapadia scored a major coup when he gained access to the entire Formula One archive. The footage that Kapadia unearthed turned out to be a goldmine revealing Ayrton Senna’s entire professional career, including races, meetings, press conferences and interviews (with Senna, his peers and closest associates). Together with home movies and broadcast excerpts from Brazil (Senna’s home country), Kapadia and his team have managed to create an astonishing tribute to the driver considered a national hero in Brazil, comprised entirely of already-existing footage. Indeed, “Senna” stands as a triumph of Kapadia and his collaborators’ knack for story craft and their ability to sort through a staggering volume of material and piece it together into a unified, powerful narrative.

The only contemporary elements recorded for the documentary are the layers of interviews that add context and commentary to the unfolding footage. As Kapadia charts Senna’s Formula One career from his 1984 debut to his tragic 1994 accident, we hear from motorsport journalists, including veteran Brazilian writer Reginaldo Leme, The Guardian’s Richard Williams, and former ESPN writer John Bisignano, along with professionals like Ron Dennis and Frank Williams, both of whom owned racing teams that Senna drove for, along with Alain Prost, Senna’s legendary rival. The remembrances they and several others – including Senna’s mother and sister – share provide richness to the characterization of Senna that emerges from the footage.

The man at the documentary’s center is rife with contradictions. A devout Catholic, Senna frequently cited his belief in God as his driving force and likened the experience of auto racing to spiritual epiphany. Off the track, Senna expressed deep concern for the impoverished plight of many of his countrymen, particularly the underprivileged children growing up in poverty (an end title informs us that a school founded in Senna’s name in 1995 has since educated 12 million Brazilian children). At the same time, Senna was no saint either. He enjoyed his lavish comforts (he even hailed from a prosperous Sao Paolo family) and his celebrity as he shrewdly cultivated his image, whether as a national hero, a wronged underdog or a boyish scamp. And Senna was not above the egotistical trappings of competition either, as his tense relationship with Prost (who won four Formula One titles to Senna’s three) bears out. In one sequence, Senna is accused of deliberately sabotaging Proust’s chances of winning a crucial race, and we note the undercurrent of bitterness that charge even their off-track interactions. As a result, we don’t like or dislike Senna so much as admire him for his confidence and talent.

Thanks to Kapadia’s exhaustive, illuminating use of Formula One archival footage along with Gregers Sall and Chris King’s skillful editing, “Senna” reaps maximum emotional wattage from every beat of its story. Because of the proliferation of video cameras during the ‘80s and ‘90s, the filmmakers luxuriate in a wealth of available coverage and camera angles to document every major event, complete with close-ups, reverse- and reaction-shots that have the visceral continuity of any made-from-scratch racing movie. Most spectacular is the extensive use of racing footage taken from cameras mounted just behind the drivers’ seats – it has the feel of an exhilarating video game, till we remember that this is real and so are the casualties.

Grade: A-

Directed by: Asif Kapadia
Written by: Manish Pandey
Cast: Ayrton Senna, Alain Prost, Frank Williams, Ron Dennis, Viviane Senna, Milton da Silva, Neide Senna, Jackie Stewart, Jean-Marie Balestre

Film Socialisme

June 2, 2011

Jean-Luc Godard’s “Film Socialisme” is likely to be an unbearable experience for anyone other than for Godard himself and his most hardcore adherents. The veteran filmmaker has pieced together a prohibitively obscure, free-association polemic on his pet theme of politics– the politics of nations, races, religion, relationships, communication, gender, essentially the entire fabric of post-colonial civilization – and how it’s processed through the meat grinder of post-modern pop culture.

The first half of “Film Socialisme” takes place on a Mediterranean cruise ship and the second in and around what is presumably a family-run gas station. The visual texture of the first half ranges from the clean, crisp high-def views of sea, sky, the ship’s decks and cabins to the degraded surveillance-camera images found, for example, in a striking image of disco-dancing guests. Godard returns frequently to a collection of mysterious characters, young and old including a musician played by Patti Smith, a photographer, his companion and a number of suspicious men (the press notes suggests various identities for them, including war criminals and detectives).

On the ship, Godard alternates between vignettes of his characters and of the ship’s passengers, depicted as a piggish, unthinking herd of hedonists – stand-ins for Godard larger vision of our consumerist society.  Intertitles with different place names: Barcelona, Naples, Egypt, Palestine, Odessa signal montage sequences in which Godard mixes archival newsreel clips, excerpts from sword-and-sandal epics and original footage in poetic statements about oppression, injustice (Godard’s sympathy for the Palestinian struggle is obvious, especially in an intertitle in which white Arabic letters are superimposed by blood-red Hebrew letters) and historical revisionism.

The dialogue consists largely of disconnected observations. The accompanying subtitles do not aid our understanding. Instead, the subtitles offer another layer of Godardian agitprop as they simply abbreviate snippets of what’s being said into semi-intelligible, political garble: “space is dying,” “governments wrong,” “see before read,” “bygone landscapes,” etc.

The land-based half of “Film Socialisme,” set at the country gas-station, continues the visual style and graffiti-like use of subtitles as a father, mother, son and daughter exist in a state of ennui and communication breakdown while a pair of female TV journalists, a llama and a donkey linger on the property. The color-coding, the stylized gestures, the selection of musical choices on the soundtrack all recall Godard’s 60’s era experimentalism (think “Weekend” or “Pierrot le Fou”), but stripped of playfulness and vitality. What lingers now is the feeling that, with age, Godard’s cynicism has hardened and his vision turned inward. “Film Socialisme” shows no interest in connecting with an audience; it exists impassively as something to be observed more than experienced.

Godard’s cinema can be rigorous and galvanizing as anyone familiar with his 1960s output would agree. Forty years on, he’s as troubled as ever with our subservience to the world’s military-industrial-corporate nexus. And he’s still the same cinematic prankster that he was in the 1960s – toying with the clichés of genre and shattering formal expectations. But there’s a stark difference between “Vivre Sa Vie” (1962) and “Masculin Féminin” (1966) and something like “Film Socialisme”: The crucial element of exuberance that charged the early films is gone, replaced by a bitter, reactionary aloofness. It’s as if Godard took to heart his own declaration of the “End of Cinema” in his pseudo-Apocalyptic “Weekend” (1967) and retreated deeper and deeper into his own one-man bunker.

Grade: C-

Directed by: Jean-Luc Godard
Written by: Jean-Luc Godard
Starring: Catherine Tanvier, Christian Sinniger, Jean-Marc Stehlé, Patti Smith, Robert Maloubier, Alaim Badiou, Nadège Beausson-Diagne, Élisabeth Vitali

The Last Mountain

May 31, 2011

Director Bill Haney’s trenchant, impassioned documentary “The Last Mountain” chronicles a David and Goliath-like confrontation in Appalachia’s Coal River Valley precipitated by the 2000 election of President Bush. Since then, Coal River Valley has been ground zero in the battle between ordinary West Virginia citizens against the rapacious ploys of Massey Energy, the nation’s third-largest coal-mining corporation.

The documentary examines how, after the Bush Administration altered the wording in the Clear Water Act, Massey Energy proceeded with a campaign to dynamite and raze the ecologically fragile Appalachian ranges for the extraction of coal. Over the ensuing decade, the company racked up 60,000 health and environmental violations. It was only in 2008 that the EPA slapped Massey with $20 million in penalties, still less than one percent of the total amount of fines the company had accumulated.

Haney profiles several of Coal River Valley’s hardiest activists. Among them, we hear from Maria Gunnoe, whose ancestral home faced severe flooding after Massey’s operations altered the neighboring mountain’s water channels, fighting for the preservation of her land and heritage; Ed Wiley, a one-time miner who’s become an advocate for the welfare of the area’s schoolchildren; the activists of Climate Ground Zero, whose civil disobedience campaigns are fraught with dangers and risks; and environmental lawyer Robert F. Kennedy Jr., who steps into the fray alongside Coal River Valley’s citizenry.

Kennedy becomes the documentary’s ad hoc narrator, a compelling, knowledgeable voice binding its Appalachian story with the larger history of American environmentalism and a convincing argument for how easily we could replace dirty fuels with cleaner alternatives, i.e. wind turbines (already installed in thousands of sites across the country).

On the one hand, we’re dejected by the enormity of the activists’ challenge: Their opponent, after all, is a multi-billion dollar corporation that enjoys the favors of a corrupt state government and preys on the desperations of poor, job-hungry communities. But their passion and tooth-and-claw resilience leave a lasting impression, and we’re encouraged by the steady successes they have won.

Haney shrewdly skewers Massey Energy, which stuffed its pockets while Coal River Valley’s miners and their families suffered. Indeed, you couldn’t dream up a more compelling portrait of villainy than the real-life collusion between Massey Energy, the Bush Administration and the state government. The whole system was and continues to be top-to-bottom rotten: Haney begins with a one valley’s endangered ecosystem, its depopulated towns, its schools threatened with toxic run-off and its communities plagued with cancers from poisoned water wells and elegantly widens his view out to a nation whose energy infrastructure is controlled by politically savvy mining companies, utilities and railroads (which profit from transporting the coal nationwide).

It’s true that watching “The Last Mountain” is partially an exercise in shock and despair. Our systemic dependence on dirty fuels is a deeply entrenched political and practical reality. But Haney’s film, thankfully, is as optimistic as it is intelligent and incisive, envisioning a future in which we can make clean and renewable energy sources readily available to all. Haney’s eloquently documentary transcends the battle being waged in West Virginia. Its realities and truths encompass all of us – not just Americans, but people everywhere whose rights, well-being and dignity are being trampled upon by the arrival of predatory corporations.

Grade: A-

Directed by: Bill Haney
Written by: Bill Haney, Peter Rhodes
Starring: Robert Kennedy Jr., Bo Webb, Maria Gunnoe, Michael Shnayerson, Joe Lovett, Bill Raney, Dr. Allen Hershkowitz, Jennifer Hall-Massey, Ed Wiley, Chuck Nelson, Don Blankenship

Wretches & Jabberers

April 7, 2011

For those unfamiliar with autism – its severity and its effects on individuals and families – Gerardine Wurzberg’s documentary “Wretches & Jabberers” will be an eye-opener. Wurzberg profiles two autistic men, Tracy Thresher and Larry Bissonnette. Accompanied by their caregivers Harvey Lavoy and Pascal Cheng, Tracy and Larry travel the world, meeting with others afflicted with autism and provide them with moral support. Having been advocates for autism awareness for decades, they address conferences and classrooms in Sri Lanka, Tokyo and Helsinki on the topic on what it’s like to live with autism and to overturn misperceptions that those with autism are of limited potential and intelligence.

It’s a meaningful, worthwhile message to say that those with autism have too long been confined by cultural ignorance and that they have as much potential to contribute to society as anyone else. But Wurzberg lays it on a bit thick; once its established, her message begins to sound like a broken record, like the opening sentence to a lengthy essay that keeps getting repeated at the beginning of each new paragraph. Moreover, the decision to saturate the film with copious amounts of ad hoc pop tunes (largely of the emo variety) feels heavy-handed and at times ill advised, as when the scene of an excited autistic youngster prompts “Flight of the Bumblebee” on the soundtrack. The music adds a wistful mood generally, but it’s overused and unnecessary particularly because the film finds itself through the people inhabiting it.

By observing Tracy, Larry, Pascal and Harvey, we find genuine examples of dedication, conviction and passion. Because of severe speech defects, Tracy and Larry must type out the words they wish to communicate on writing devices – a grueling process to encapsulate thoughts and feelings letter by letter on a keypad. We see their struggle, and it’s heart-rending to watch them have emotional breakdowns out of sheer frustration. Yet, it’s through these words typed on screens that “Wretches & Jabberers” finds a kind of poetry underlining everything.

We experience the novelty of Larry and Tracy’s far-flung travels through their eyes. As strange as the food and customs of Sri Lanka, Japan and Finland may seem to them, it’s ultimately the bonds they forge with like-minded advocates and with fellow autistics that makes them (and their newfound friends and the rest of us, for that matter) feel that the world has room to include all of us.

“Wretches & Jabberers,” ultimately, charts the journey of two individuals finding purpose to their existence and cultivating the patience needed to overcome their disabilities. Wurzberg ably captures the pain and sadness inherent in Larry and Tracy’s struggles – Tracy, for instance, does not have a permanent home – but both men project humor and thoughtfulness despite everything. Just as inspiring is to watch the intense solidarity and companionship shown by Harvey and Pascal throughout, helping Larry and Tracy overcome their frustrations, treating them with the dignity they deserve. It’s by engaging with all these extraordinary people that the film’s beauty reveals itself.

Grade: B+

Directed by: Gerardine Wurzberg
Cast: Larry Bissonnette, Tracy Thresher

I Am

March 11, 2011

After enduring a prolonged battle with post-concussion syndrome following a bike accident, filmmaker Tom Shadyac – the helmer behind such slapstick blockbusters as “Ace Ventura: Pet Detective,” “The Nutty Professor,” and “Bruce Almighty” – decided to steer his life and priorities in a new direction. He moved out of his mansion and into a Malibu trailer park, gave up his car in favor of his bike and, in general, renounced his Hollywood lifestyle in a quest to get at the essence of what brings inner peace. The result of this soul-searching is his personal documentary, “I Am,” a well-meaning it of metaphysical inquiry that hits all the right sentiments but manages precious little substance.

What’s wrong with our world and what can we do about it? These are the two questions that inform Shadyac’s search. The questions are, at once, too vast and too simplistic. And if they are new to you then “I Am” may be a mind-expanding odyssey, but, more than likely, you’ve contemplated these questions every day since you were 13. Hence, “I Am’s” philosophical depth may feel shallow, a lukewarm wade through familiar waters.

Shadyac’s line of questioning is good-hearted, but it limits his all-star roster of talking heads, including spiritual and intellectual luminaries like Desmond Tutu, Noam Chomsky and the late Howard Zinn, to platitudes about our enslavement to materialism and, ultimately, our essential, redemptive goodness. Where Shadyac does come up with fresh insights is when he interviews researchers and environmentalists in debunking the popular notion that Nature is essentially cutthroat and competitive. Citing the fact that, while Darwin used the phrase “survival of the fittest” only twice in his “Descent of Man,” he used the word “love” 95 times, Shadyac brings Darwin out from under the gloomy clouds of natural selection and into the sunnier skies of New Age concepts involving our mystical interconnectedness and biological gift for empathy.

To be sure, Shadyac’s examination of our core nature is really a gloss. He cites one example of herd behavior demonstrating democracy over hegemony, but it’s one example in our very complex natural system. More interesting are discussions of Mirror Neurons and the Vagus Nerve, both evidence of hardwiring that gear us towards empathy. At times, his choices border on the flat-out silly as exemplified by an experiment in which he “interacts” with a Petri dish of yogurt. The yogurt’s hooked up to a monitor that shows how it’s biochemically responding to Shadyac’s positive and negative energy. That, along with quotes from Rumi and other literary sages, is heart-warming but not exactly compelling science. Still, the message that, at our core, we are compassionate, empathetic beings is welcome in a society driven predominantly by greed.

That “I Am” is also a slickly produced package containing montage sequences rife with maudlin visual cues (the movie is loaded with enough archival images of Nature beauty shots and social history mishmash to fill a Time-Life volume) shouldn’t come as a surprise; the documentary was made, after all, by a mega-successful purveyor of broad comedies. In that sense, “I Am,” for all its limitations, is an honest, sincere reflection of Shadyac’s personality, conscience and curiosity. And in spite of the generic, broadly stated questions at the documentary’s outset, the answer that “I Am” comes up with is profoundly simple, found in the small kindnesses that keeps us sustained and connected.

Grade: C+

Directed by: Tom Shadyac
Cast: Marc Ian Barasch, Coleman Barks, Noam Chomsky, John Francis, Lynne McTaggart, Tom Shadyac, Desmond Tutu, Howard Zinn

The Last Lions

February 16, 2011

A quote from Dereck Joubert, the writer-director-cinematographer behind “The Last Lions” crystallizes the moral ambivalence at the heart of his wildlife documentary: “Understanding more about the hunt and the kill as well as our own feelings about life and death is what this is about.” For all the hardships and hostility the film’s lioness-protagonist endures, we realize that her – and her pride’s – lives depend entirely on the success of the hunt. That is, the death of another animal. Without death, life is impossible.

Narrated masterfully by Jeremy Irons, the documentary is a saga of survival in a pitiless environment. After rival members of her tribe kill her mate, a resilient lioness named Ma di Tau escapes with her three cubs from hostile territory in Botswana’s Okavango wetlands. Facing death and danger every step of the way, Ma di Tau finds refuge on a marshy island separated from the mainland by river systems. The island is also sanctuary for a herd of massive wild buffalo – a potential food source for Ma di Tau and her cubs, but also notoriously aggressive beasts.

Visually, “The Last Lions” stands above even the most accomplished wildlife documentaries you may have seen on HDTV. Using lightweight digital cameras – and filming over a six-year period – Joubert captures images of singular, breathtaking power. The musculature of a lion’s body; the terrifying bulk of an elephant seen from the point-of-view of a cub; or, most striking, a lion dying, alone on a plain, while thunderclouds roil overhead and lightning forks the horizon – all these images burn into the viewer’s memory.

Much of “The Last Lions” mid-section examines Ma di Tau’s learning how to hunt on her own, attempting one of many unsuccessful tactics. For all its care and attention to the problem, this section begins to feel bogged down by its repetitiveness since the net result of Ma di Tau’s labors is always the same: exhaustion and despair. It’s heartbreaking to watch her lone struggle, but Joubert saves the final irony for what happens in the aftermath of her first kill; the fate suffered by one of her cubs is too grim to even recall.

All the while, the lionesses from her former pride – including one named Silver Eye, so-called because Ma di Tau clawed out one of her eyes in the film’s opening skirmish – are on the prowl, intent on finishing Ma di Tau and her cubs off. Unexpectedly, though, Ma di Tau, toughened after her labors and hardships, finds herself in a position of power vis-à-vis her less resilient rivals.

In a sense, Joubert has crafted a perfectly streamlined, three-act narrative about tragedy and triumph in the wild – the kind you’d find in any Hollywood adventure yarn. Yet the viewer doesn’t feel manipulated, because, for one, a narrative arc is the most convenient and effective way to track Ma di Tau’s journey. For another, the contents of the narrative are entirely true and its message about what we must do to survive and persevere transcends genre and artifice.

“The Last Lions” is not an easy documentary to watch – a great deal of what Ma di Tau endures we can hardly bear – but it’s an important one. Not only because it shines much-needed light on the life struggles of Africa’s endangered wild lions, but it urges us to confront our feelings about the suffering and death, to reconcile Nature’s implacability with our human capacity for compassion. That it accomplishes this with tenderness and an unflinching eye makes “The Last Lions” an extraordinary achievement.

Grade: A

Directed/Written by: Dereck Joubert
Narrator: Jeremy Irons


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