Still in Motion

Prishtinë, mon amour

 

There might have been a new breed of creature born this past month. It would be a young man or woman, most certainly Balkan (although not in every case), artistic, open-minded, curious, adventurous and paying careful attention to what is going on around him or her. It's also a person who notices that there are places in the city where the empty spaces have been left null and void for decades. He or she might think that that place could be inhabited and enlivened again, if only. . .  Let's call them Bororamizians.

Since August, there has been a Bororamizian colony setting up shop in one of Prishtinë's old historic landmarks, the Pallati e Rinisë, aka Boro Ramiz. The building's former sports complex is literally, just a shell of itself, its main function now that of a parking lot. The basement has not been touched, everything left just as it was the day the building was abandoned--old flyers, office equipment, chairs, file cabinets. And, most eerily of all, a giant pile of old ice skates, lying like some monument or memorial to things strongly remembered by a certain generation that still inhabits the country's once-great capital. The brainchild for this project belongs to its three  founding members, Astrit Ismaili, Rina Kika, and Tobias Bienz.

The city of Prishtina has its share of spaceship architecture (for want of a better word) amidst its pulverized sidewalks, open construction pits and quiet tree-lined streets with internet-ready coffee, drinking and eating spots filled with people day and night--sitting, smoking, talking, checking one another out. Boro Ramiz, which sits above the now infamous NEWBORN scuplture (which Rita Ora used to dance around on in her new music video that was being shot the same day as the "Prishtinë, mon amour" performance), looms in communist-era fashion above the skyline of the city. Originally built as a sports palace (it still has a pristine basketball court), it's shaped, somewhat, like a pyramid with the front of it featuring an enomous likness of Adem Jasheri, a commander of the Kosovo Liberation Army, killed with all his family members in Prekaz by Serbian military forces in 1998. 

The group of thirty-two artists and the performers and other people contributing to the "residency" and ultimate one-hour performance called "Repetition," welcomed a vast crowd of close to 500 people that came through the building's doors last Saturday night. The project pays homage to some seminal artistic influences, starting with the title of the collective, named after Alain Resnais' 1959 film, Hiroshima, mon amour. There was an homage to contemporary performance artist, Marina Abramovic, in one of the performance pieces. Even the sequined roller skating couple dancing gracefully and followed by a spotlight in the middle of the concrete parking lot (a work specially created for the exhibition by filmmaker, Shota Bukoshi performed by Lirona Rexhepi and Ergin Abdullahu) conveyed evocations of film, art, sports and youth, creating a kind of nostalgia. This was a nostaliga, however, that was meant to be intentionally obtuse. My impression was that this was the whole point--to allow the spectators who came to see the result of several weeks' worth of planning and building (and much, much cleaning) to come to their own conclusions, to walk through the space in their own personal reverie. And then there were the sheep. But that's another story, coming soon. (All photos, courtesy Still in Motion aka moi)

And a huge Faleminderit to G. Bajri, pictured below--a pleasure to work with and a total pro, what a combo.

(There was also an article published today by Hana Marku of Kosovo 2.0 which I think should be required reading for us all. Read it here.)

And yes, I am remembering September 11 today, of course, but it's much easier to write about the pain of someone else's country than that of your own.

Interview: Marianna Kaat, Director PIT NO 8

I was privileged to be a member of the international jury at the eleventh edition of the International Documentary Film Festival “Flahertiana,” in Perm, Russia that took place last month (11 – 17 October).  We five jury members were tasked with awarding a Grand Prix, a Best Feature and Best Short film prizes.  We gave the feature prize to Estonian filmmaker, Marianna Kaat, for Pit No 8.  Here’s what we said in our statement:

“ . . . Kaat grows a unique and complex relationship with her main protagonists, particularly in her portrayal of one very powerful man who still resides in the body of an adolescent boy.  We observe how he and his family try to survive under unbearable social pressures with grace, dignity, and persistent resistance against the forces that might pull them under at any given moment.  They display clarity and fortitude, as does Kaat in her filmmaking.  Pit No 8 is an inspiring portrait of Ukraine, a country in painful transition, where there are no rules.  But Kaat shows us plenty of examples of the miracle of humanity amidst inhumane conditions.”

The Tallinn-based filmmaker’s new film is also an apt case study for a couple of complex issues nonfiction directors face on a regular basis.  In her quest for a main protagonist for her film on illegal coal mining in the Donetsk region of Ukraine, she met a teenager named Yura and he, in turn, introduced her and her crew to his two sisters.  When they met, the three children were living completely on their own, taking care of one another and surviving the best they knew how.  During the course of filming with Yura and his sisters, Julia and Ulyana, Kaat and her crew became so close to them that the usual lines drawn between filmmaker and protagonists started to blur, with the director, in particular, becoming personally involved in their lives—an association that still continues to this day.

As well, because Kaat is interested in making cinematic pieces that comprise aspects of what she calls “her vision,” there are re-constructed scenes in the film that she and her subjects created together, and so she plays with the timeline of some events for the purposes of stronger dramaturgy in line with the story she chooses to tell about their lives.  In essence, this documentary filmmaker plays with form and, in the process, has created an emotionally resonant film that has had profound repercussions in the country of Ukraine.  Quite candidly, she talked to me about these creative decisions and the journey that took her deep into the lives of her subjects. 

 

Still in Motion (SIM):  How did you find your way into this film?  How did you discover Yura and his family?

Marianna Kaat (MK):  As a documentary filmmaker, I’m always open to new stories, new characters; I’m always thinking about those things, even when I’m not actively making a film.  Ideas can come from news stories or meeting someone and I think, oh that would be a great subject or character for a documentary.  I’m always open for that.

I was a co-producer on a Ukrainian project, a fiction film for children that was shot in Estonia.  I was sitting drinking coffee with the Ukrainian producer and I told her that we now had to do something in Ukraine [laughing].  I already knew about this area, this Donetsk and Donbass area [the center of the coal industry in Eastern Ukraine]. 

I was born in the Soviet Union—we used to be one country, Estonia, Russia, etc., and I’m old enough to remember certain things that filled every day of my life, such as what was on TV and in films.  There were a lot of documentaries about miners in the Soviet period.  These men were considered the “aristocrats” of the labor-class. They were very well paid; their salaries were fairly high compared to what a lot of other people were earning at the time, and they were privileged.  They traveled to the best places for vacations in Crimea and the Black Sea area. When the Soviet Union collapsed, most of the state mines were closed. I also was aware of all the social problems in this area that were the result of massive unemployment when the mines were shut down. 

We found a retired guy, about 54, who still had this illegal pit but it was closed by the time we got there.  He was like a Don Quixote, fighting with the authorities because he didn’t want to pay bribes to the militia anymore to keep it open.  So the authorities made him a sort of unofficial Marshall, closing his pit with the presence of TV and the militia present and all this kind of thing, to show how they are fighting the illegal pits.  But, in reality, they are all connected to this illegal industry, somehow.  So I thought this might be my main character and we would follow him trying to legalize his pit, going to the different authorities.  Theoretically, it is possible to make it legal, but it costs a lot of money.  And it was obvious that there would be no way for this man to succeed in accomplishing that.

We even made some sort of trailer from this material and I pitched the project in different parts of Europe.  We received some money to go and shoot, and just as we were getting ready to go, I got a message that he had died from cancer.  But when we got there, I was absolutely sure that we would find a protagonist.  This area is full of very, very strong characters, responsible men who work for their families.  Usually the women sit at home and the men work.  When Ukraine received independence [in 1991], there were changes to these classical roles because so many men lost their jobs.  They could no longer feed their families.  It was both an internal and external tragedy for a lot of people.

We did think we had found another main protagonist in this young 22-year-old guy who, like Yura, had started working in the pits when he was fourteen or fifteen years old.  He had just gotten married and his wife was pregnant.  Yura actually mentions him in the film as “the kamikaze” who dug a hole underneath his own house. This guy mentioned that his neighbor was a fifteen-year-old boy, the grandson of one of the plant directors, and he worked in the pits.  For me, that was new information because I didn’t realize that children were working in the pits.  That was a discovery and something I had never read about anywhere.

One day when we were shooting on the street, this boy rides up to us on his bike and starts asking us who we are and what we’re doing there.  And then, of course, I realized that this is the same boy we had been looking for.  We were looking for him, but he had found us, a good sign.  And it was absolutely clear that he would be our main guy.

SIM:  What was it about Yura, in particular, that made you feel that strongly that he would be the person to lead the film?

MK:  He was extremely open from the very beginning—you can see this first encounter in the film.  When we were editing the material, we tried different approaches to introduce his story and then I realized there was no need to get very complicated about it and just showed how our first encounter happened since we filmed it.  He was open to sharing his thoughts and wasn’t afraid or shy.  And of course, there was the fact that he was working, a normal workingman, no different than anyone else there who decides to work.  Some of these working people, like him, are children. By that time, we had also learned that he was the grandson of this Soviet factory boss.  For those not living in the Soviet era, that doesn’t seem so important, but for those who lived during those times, the importance of this is key.  The factory was making materials for the military, so the person running these plants was very powerful.  For this region, the director of the factory was like a god.  There were no barriers or limits for this kind of person, you know?  So knowing this and knowing how his grandson is living makes for an enormous difference if we look at it in terms of legacy. 

SIM:  The ghost of the grandfather is there throughout the entire film.  People keep mentioning him, what a great man he was.  But what’s even more resonant in terms of this particular aspect, is that this boy, somehow, even without knowing what this legacy might mean, is imbued with this kind of nobility.  I see this noble class in him, not only in his confidence and his maturity, but in the way he feels so paternalistic towards almost everyone he meets and certainly in the way he regards his role as caretaker of the family.  He’s so much more like a father figure than a brother or a son.

After you filmed for about six months with Yura and his sisters, we come to a very interesting point in the film.  Other filmmakers would have, perhaps, made very different decisions about this and there are many, many discussions about this issue in documentary circles—one of the trickiest territories a nonfiction filmmaker has to traverse.  You state, very explicitly, that you decide to help the children by buying them a house.  It’s Christmastime and we’ve watched their situation deteriorate relentlessly, including some strife amongst them, particularly Yura and the older girl, Ulyana.

MK:  Well, in many discussions about this with viewers and audiences, I must say that it's always addressed as a kind of positive question.  No one’s blaming me or finding fault with that decision, except for one time when someone asked me how I could “just change lives like that?”

First of all, their lives did not change after I decided to buy that house for them.  It cost practically nothing for me, to be honest, 1000 dollars.  That was nothing to spend to provide a roof over their heads. I have two boys, close to the same age as Yura and Ulyana, 17 and 19.  When we started to film with Yura, I cried a lot. He was the one who was trying to encourage me and comfort me, “No, no it’s okay; why are you crying like this?”  [laughing]  I was looking at this situation as a mother, not as a film director.  I was having a hard time separating these two things.

SIM:  We never see or meet their mother.  Was there an attempt to film her at all, or did you decide early on that you were going to stay focused on the children?

MK:  We filmed once with her.  There were several moments when we could have shot with her, but Yura did not want us to involve her in this at all and when I first saw her, I understood why.  For me, it was like a shock.  The first thing I found myself saying to her was how beautiful her children were because the contrast was staggering.  She looked absolutely awful.  This wouldn’t have given anything additional to this film except an awful visual moment.  During the time we shot the film, she wasn’t involved in their lives at all. And the reality was they were completely on their own and I wanted to show that there is, literally, no one taking care of these children.  Not even any of the representatives of this commission that is supposed to be responsible for overseeing the well being of these families, came to us to ask us what we were doing there.  They knew that we were filming.  The only time they came around was when I bought the children the house.  They didn’t come to check on them; they came to check out the house out of curiosity to see what kind of gift the children were getting.

The house where they were living with the mother was very, very cold, with no electricity and the windows were blocked with wood to keep some warmth in.  The stepfather had sold the heater for scrap to buy alcohol.  The situation was absolutely awful and my heart was breaking.  Yura told me about this house being sold by its owner’s son, that he was dreaming to buy it once he had enough money.  So I told him that we should go and see it together.  I had decided that if it would be okay for living, I was going to buy it—I had already made up my mind.  I knew the price already.  I told my crew that we needed to film everything since you never know what you might need afterwards.  But I wasn’t sure I would use this material for the film then. 

Also, in talking with the owner, I realized that he would be the only adult person to whom I could call from Estonia to ask how the children were doing.  In case they needed something, I could manage things through him.  I decided right then and there to buy it.  Yura was in shock since he didn’t expect this at all.

In an earlier cut of the film, I didn’t use this section. But I started asking some people about it and understood that without this, something essential would be missing.  And once I decided that Yura would be the center of the film, I started putting some moments back in like this one, his problems at school, and also this “golden” moment at the end when everyone is happy and we can all believe that everything will be okay.  However, I did want to know if it did bother people if we explicitly stated that I bought the house for the children, illustrating this involvement I had which obviously went beyond the filming relationship.  I didn’t get any negative reaction.

SIM:  Yura does struggle greatly with this work / school dilemma, realizing that with all the other responsibilities he has, to manage both is not really possible.  Particularly when the relationship with Ulyana breaks down, he realizes he’s really the only one that can support himself and Julia, the younger girl. The kids who do go to school and finish, do they stay in the area, do they leave?  What’s going to happen to places like Donbass?

MK:  This is an area where the authorities are not involved very deeply.  It’s not a question of money—there is money there.  It’s how the system works and how it’s worked for a long time now.  So it still depends on family.  If the family is okay, then the children are okay.  If the family is not okay, then the children have a hard time.

In Ukraine, someone put this film up on YouTube without permission, no English subtitles.  I’m not fighting against it since it’s obviously to be shared with people there who otherwise would not have access to it.  I haven’t checked recently, but it’s received thousands and thousands of uploads from Ukraine.  I’ve received emails through Facebook or through YouTube from people who were born there, some who even worked in the pits and have moved out of the area.  They live in Kiev, some even in America.  They are very moved because they see themselves in this film.  But most people stay just because they simply don’t have any money to move.

SIM:  The ending of this film, the last shots particularly, are surprising.  In many ways, this portrayal completely goes against the grain of the rest of the film as it's quite idealistic, whimsical and, one could say, fantastical. Why did you choose to end the film this way, with Yura and his best friend, Dima, “riding off into the sunset” on a motorbike? Why was it so important to you to have this “happy ending”?  Most documentary filmmakers do not feel compelled to show resolution of any sort, let alone a happy ending.

MK:  This scene--the whole film, in fact--is my vision of things.  The motorbike ride shown at the end is a reconstructed episode.  For the children and for the audiences who watch the film, I want them to believe in something [laughs softly].  I’m a positive person in life because I choose to be.  I also, somehow, believe in signs.  I think if you put something very horrible at the end, something horrible can or will happen to them.  That’s not what I want for them, to have this kind of bleak future.  I put my emotions and my energy in these episodes to make everybody believe that it is possible to change something.

We shot this episode on the motorbike in the middle of our shooting period.  I knew then that I wanted this to be the finale of the film and I told my crew this.  So I decided what the end of the film would be in the middle of shooting, whatever would have happened.  Dima purchased the bike in the beginning of summer. He had taken out a loan from the bank to buy it. When we got there in the middle of summer, the bike was already ruined, you know?  The boys had been very rough with it and we filmed them trying to repair it.  I wanted to reconstruct this episode where Dima buys it and they're driving it when it’s new.  It was something he and Yura had done together during the summer but we’d missed that.  So we repaired the bike and shot them riding in the city, outside the city, what you see in the film.  The light was fantastic, etc.  I tried to make this motorbike a constant theme in the film.  When we show that they go to first see the bike in the store and ask how much it is, the bike had already been bought.  I wanted to get all these episodes on film—things that had already happened.  It becomes a manifestation of their dreams and instead of having them merely speak about it, I wanted to show them riding.

SIM:  I see this kind of nuance in the work of your cinematographer, Rein Kotov.  His camera work is really extraordinary.  These quiet, formally framed moments become so vital to a viewer’s emotional journey with these characters. We really get a sense of where we are and what it feels like. And a lot of it is really ugly.  He bothered to go and find a good amount of beauty there.

MK:  Rein is a very famous Estonian cinematographer who mostly works in fiction.  So I’m very proud that he works with me.  Obviously, I can’t pay him near what he makes in fiction and he’s very, very busy; he’s in high demand and works a lot.  My sound recordist, as well, is now a fiction film producer [Ivo Felt].  So I’m working with an extremely qualified and professional crew.  It was tricky logistically sometimes to work things out, where everyone could take time to go to Ukraine to shoot.  Sometimes we would only be able to go for three or four days at a time and it just came down to using what we had when we could get it, how to use what happened when we weren’t there, and how to incorporate those elements in the film.  This also included what might happen in the future that didn't yet exist at the time of shooting.

But all of us share a common understanding of the world and so we formed similar relationships to the protagonists.  It became vital to be able to shoot together and so I needed to wait for them to be available.  The children became close to all of us.  It gets dark in the Ukraine very early so the shooting day is very short.  There’s nothing to do there so we’d sit for hours in the evening together in restaurants and the children were always with us.  We acted very much like a family in this way when we were there.

I think this is crucial when you’re going to show very intimate aspects of people’s lives to have this kind of intimacy in reality.  That intimacy extends to your crew because I completely relied and trusted in them.

SIM:  What did the kids think when they saw the film?  Did they feel it was worth it to expose and share their lives like this?

MK:  They like the film.  We spent three years of our lives making it together.  It’s very difficult for me to divide things—it was, and still is, a very big part of my life, these relationships. I’m still in contact with them and I’m still dealing with them and I probably will until they’re grown.  I’m still trying to help them.  The film has had powerful emotional impacts on people.  When I showed it at festivals in Canada, at Hot Docs in Toronto and DOXA in Vancouver, there were some people who told me they were involved with a charity and wanted to know how they could help. 

The irony of the situation is that the Ukrainian authorities are so frightened by this film.  In fact, the film is prohibited from being shown in Ukraine.  Not prohibited in any “official” capacity, but none of the Ukrainian festivals will take it and my co-producer there, who has distribution rights for that territory, is not doing anything.  The Ukrainian Ministry of Culture is the only source for financing films and she is afraid that if she associates herself with this film any further, the financing for her own future projects will be compromised.

The head of one of the Canadian charities is from a different region in Ukraine and they have created some big projects affiliated with orphanages, one of which is where Julia is now. But these places would not let me in when I was asked to go there to negotiate on behalf of the Canadians.  The orphanage director in Ukraine was advised not to have contact with me and refused to meet me at all.  There was even talk of the possibility of putting together a scholarship for Yura to come to study in Canada at a cooking school.  [Yura dreams of becoming a chef.]  People have reacted so emotionally; they really want to do something to help.  But they are reacting to my vision of life there—not necessarily the reality.  Yura still works in the pits, you know?  He did finish school but he’s working in the pits again.

I’m not their mother. If he was, indeed, my son, I would just flat out tell him to do what I thought was best for him and there would be little discussion!  [laughter]  But I can’t say things like that to him. He knows about this proposal to bring him to Canada.  He needed certain documents and he didn’t bother to acquire those.  I haven’t heard from him in a couple of months, but through checking in with the sisters, I know he’s involved in working in the pits and he knows how I would take that and that’s why he’s not contacting me.  Because then he’d have to tell me what he’s doing and he can’t lie to me.  To be honest, I don’t see a good future for him.  Maybe the army can change something but I don’t know if he will go or even if he’ll be accepted or sent there since he has the two sisters.  I don’t know what the rules are regarding that.

And unfortunately, Julia, the little one, is too old for adoption in Canada, but these same Canadians were ready to establish some sort of fund for her support after she finished school at the orphanage. But all these things have to be done with the cooperation of the local people and I can’t do anything from Estonia.  I do understand as a professional filmmaker that you can definitely influence people with your films and gain something from it when there is the offer to do something about the situation of the people you portray in your films.  But in Ukraine, they are doing nothing and more than that, creating restrictions so that nothing can be done.

Viktor Yanukovych [the President of Ukraine] was born in this region.  The film doesn’t do much for the image of Ukraine or the region, quite obviously, since no one in power is interested in doing anything for people there, including the children.  I’m an outsider; I’m not a citizen there and to be honest, I really don’t know what to do, to whom I should appeal. I do want this film to help people and to change things, especially in the mines.  I know that several Ukrainian bloggers are writing about the film.  I saw one comment that said, “Yanukovych to the pit, and Yura for President!”  [laughing] 

SIM:  That would not be a bad start for change.

 

To stream or upload the film (with English subtitles), click here:  http://onlinefilm.org/en_EN/film/48972

 

My 25 + 1

This will be the lazy woman's version of Jennifer Merin's very cool Top 25 list of docs by and/or about women that she feels are must-sees.  Here, instead of a description by me, you get a link to the film's website, or to a site that says something interesting about the film--infinite numbers of worlds to choose from, that I would never deny anyone.  Writing film synopses right now, not so much. 

However, I have supplied an extra added bonus--a special mention to a special film about girls/women that was one of the first things I saw that countered every rubric about genre in one movie, and made me weep like a baby, to boot.  (Herzog's Little Dieter Needs to Fly was another one, but Werner makes man-films, so has no place in this conversation.)  Apologies to my friends on the Continent if this is still too much of a US-centric list; I tried to give it some international flava.  We white Europeans overlook lots of stuff.  In no particular order, just as they came to me:

The Gleaners and I, Agnès Varda, 2000.  (Still above of Varda's hand holding a heart-shaped potato.)

The Devil's Playground, Lucy Walker, 2002.

Flag Wars, Linda Goode Bryant and Laura Poitras, 2003.

Prodigal Sons, Kimberly Reed, 2008.

Flying: Confessions of a Free Woman, Jennifer Fox, 2006.

Protagonist, Jessica Yu, 2007.

Blue Vinyl, Daniel B. Gold and Judith Helfand, 2002.

A Lion in the House, Julia Reichert and Steven Bognar, 2006.

The Boys of Baraka, Heidi Ewing and Rachel Grady, 2005.

My Country, My Country, Laura Poitras, 2006.

Freeheld, Cynthia Wade, 2007.

Aileen: Life and Death of a Serial Killer, Nick Broomfield, 2003.

To See If I'm Smiling, Tamar Yarom, 2007.  (Still pictured.)

The Mother, Pavel Kostomarov and Antoine Cattin, 2008.

Family Affair, Chico Colvard, 2010.

Off and Running, Nicole Opper, 2009.

3 Rooms of Melancholia, Pirjo Honkasalo, 2005.

O Amor Natural, Heddy Honigmann,1996.

The Monastery: Mr. Vig and the Nun, Pernille Rose Grønkjaer, 2006.

La Sierra, Scott Dalton and Margarita Martinez, 2005.

Edie & Thea: A Very Long Engagement, Susan Muska and Gréta Olafsdóttir, 2009.

Sisters in Law, Kim Longinotto and Florence Ayisi, 2005.

Billy the Kid, Jennifer Venditti, 2007.

Beetle Queen Conquers Tokyo, Jessica Oreck, 2009.

The Art Star and the Sudanese Twins, Pietra Brettkelly, 2008.  (Still pictured.)

 

BONUS FILM!!  Rabbit-Proof Fence, Phillip Noyce, 2002.

I hope this helps to further generate an epidemic of lists of kick-ass women and their accomplishments--in film or in anything.  Personally, I think we should get rid of International Women's Day and just take over the world already.

 

 

 

Middle East Focus at Sheffield 2010

In the current issue of DOX Magazine, just released and currently available at the EFM lounge at the Berlinale marketplace, I have three articles published which I will "reprint" here on this blog.  Even though these festivals happened in the autumn of 2010, I think the themes are still pertinent enough to share now.  I hope you agree:

As part of Sheffield Doc/Fest’s extensive and impressive program this year, there was a strand that focused on the Middle East, a place rife with underground work.  While some of these films are certainly getting a bit of play at some of the larger Middle East fests, making and exhibiting independent documentary in the Arab world is a challenge in several distinct ways.  Even with new film funds developing and alternative avenues emerging for exhibition, oftentimes, there is severe political and social censorship with which filmmakers from the region have to contend. How successful the outcome of certain projects is up for debate, for quite a few pieces are unpolished, filled with the kind of “gaffes” of which most Western filmmakers (and audiences) are highly critical.  We must also remember, however, that a lot of these important and timely stories never get the appropriate professional support to help enhance their "market-readiness."  Nonetheless, it is important that these films get some play outside their own region at high-profile festivals, and in this case it was thanks to expansive programmers like Hussain Currimbhoy that they played at Sheffield.

The Middle East Focus strand at Doc/Fest 2010 showcased ten films from Turkey, Lebanon, Palestine, Israel, Iran and Tunisia.  There were two feature-length films that were particularly striking, but for entirely different reasons.  While Zeina Daccache’s 12 Angry Lebanese: The Documentary is exceedingly well produced and executed, Mohammad Ali Atassi’s Waiting for Abu Zayd  is not.  In fact, at its conclusion, Atassi’s film devolves into a philosophical argument between the journalist and his subject, Atassi’s a frustrated off-camera voice expressing bewilderment to Zayd about the intellectual’s refusal to return to his native Egypt after 13 years of exile.  It’s an unintentionally morbid conclusion to what amounts to the only extensive documentation of Zayd’s life.

The two films have some palpable reverberations with one another since both say a lot about the constant struggle with creating contemporary meaning out of ancient Qur’anic traditions of Islam, and the complex social morés (and severe social restrictions) of being a good and faithful Muslim today.  In both cases, the films concentrate on these principles through interaction with state “criminals,” or exiles, in Zayd's case.

Fierce and fesity theatre director, Zeina Daccache, sets up Lebanon’s first prison-based drama project in Roumieh Prison, one of the most overcrowded penitentiaries.  The facility, built for 1,500 inmates, holds almost 4,000.  Over the course of a year and half, she molds a group of 45 actors plucked from the prison population and stages an adaptation of Reginald Rose’s teleplay from 1957, 12 Angry Men.  The story takes place in the confines of a deliberation room with 12 jurors deciding the case of a boy who is being charged for murdering his father. There is one man who decides to buck the unanimous vote of “guilty” which leads to a passionate interplay between notions of innocence and guilt.  As the prisoners themselves analyze all of the motivations of their individual characters, they start to work out deeply embedded personal, familial and social issues, all guided by Daccache in a magnificent performance of her own.  She stubbornly stays with her charges through all of their injurious self-doubts, through intense resistance to commit to the rigors of rehearsal, and the intimidating exposure of performance.  We learn immediately about the crimes these men committed, but the reasons why they find themselves behind bars (some for life) always surprise.  Yes, some blame their upbringing, their parents, their surroundings, but most reveal that the foibles of their own personalities are the “culprits” that led them to lose their way, resulting in  giving each of them much agency in their attempts at self-understanding.

The film documents Daccache’s work inside the prison, spending most of its time in the rehearsal / therapy process.  Monologues and song and dance routines that detail the prisoners’ life experiences are created and added to the spine of Rose's original play. Seen by many influential people in Lebanese government, the play (and the film) helped put into action a law from 2000 that was never enforced, which offers reduced sentences for good behavior. Two months after the staging of the play in which the characters talk about the need for the law's actual implementation, Lebanon’s Justice Ministry began approving reduced sentences.  Certainly, the existing structure of the original play, the play within the play, and the structure of Daccache’s CATHARSIS program (essentially therapy through enacting drama), has enhanced the dramaturgical work of this exhilarating documentary.  But the heart of the matter resides in the ways in which the inmates interact with the camera lens, with superb shooting by Jocelyne Abi Gebrayel, and sensitive and graceful editing by Michele Tyan. It is a focused and satisfyingly contextualized effort.

Syrian journalist and human rights activist, Mohammed Ali Atassi, who followed his protagonist for six years, is not as narratively successful in his film portrait of Nasr Hamed Abu Zayd in Waiting for Abu Zayd.  A brilliant and outspoken liberal theologian and intellectual, Zayd wrote several books challenging institutionalized interpretations of the Qur’an and Islam. Zayd was the victim of a ludicrous court battle that labeled him an apostate, resulting in his exile from his native Egypt. Atassi follows Zayd as he tours, lectures and comes face to face with a tightly controlled Middle Eastern press. One television station at which he is interviewed is owned by Saudi Arabians; any criticism of Wahhabism (the country’s dominant faith, and an austere form of Islam that insists on a literal interpretation of Qur’an) is a serious breach, and Zayd is told this several times before he appears on air.  But clearly at that point in his life, he was a man with nothing more to lose.  In 1995, he had been banned from his native country, an enemy of the powers that control traditional Islamic practices and laws, and Egypt’s religious authorities forcibly divorced him from his beloved wife, Cairo University professor, Ibtihal Younes.

Subsequently, Zayd spent his time in exile writing books and raging eloquently in public debates, calling for a more humanist, modern approach to being a faithful Muslim. For the last several years of his life (he died in July of 2010, two months after the film was completed), he resided in Leyden in the Netherlands, where he continued to give conferences and public debates about his positions, which hardly appear to be so radical in any other place outside of the fundamentalist regime in which he resided.

The film is enhanced by fiery testimonials from Younes (pictured left with Zayd), and Zayd’s friend, Mohammad Hakem, a leftist political activist and student leader (who has also passed away since the film was made). But films about thinkers and intellectuals, particularly one as straightforward as this (and feature-length at that), pose enormous challenges to both the maker and the audience.  In essence, it fails as a cohesive film, broken awkwardly into aspects of a TV journalism profile, personal diary, and poetic ode to an indomitable spirit.  Atassi’s homage to Zayd captures the man’s humor and humanity but the forays into song, strange montage, and other filmic “effects” throughout the piece ultimately create distance from the subject, instead of providing valuable context.  More importantly, a greater understanding and contextualization of Zayd’s surreal journey into exile is sacrificed. 

Near the end of the film, knowing full well the propensity of the media (and, perhaps, Atassi) to lionize him in some grossly inaccurate way, Zayd states, “I need to be modest so that our leaders can learn modesty.  The intellectual who claims ownership of the Truth is the other leg of the dictator.  When an intellectual claims to own the Truth, he becomes the dictator’s servant.”

 

For more information on the Sheffield festival and market, and to keep up to date on deadlines for this year’s fest, which moves from autumn to summer (8 – 12 June 2011), visit the web site at http://sheffdocfest.com/.

 

THE GREEN WAVE: Tweets From a Revolution

This review was written for Hammer to Nail and will be posted there very soon, technical difficulties.  The store manager is a bit busy right now since he has a film in Park City, too.  However, in the interests of time since it's playing at Sundance now, here is my review of The Green Wave:

 

“Iranians, it was once said, are afflicted by a unique strain of melancholy: Those who live in Iran dream of leaving, while those who were exiled dream of going back.  . . . A country like Iran that has repeatedly been subjected to public heartbreak over the last few decades -- most notably the loss of over 200,000 native sons in the ruinous eight-year war with Saddam Hussein's Iraq -- naturally confronts the self-inflicted death of a child of privilege with mixed feelings.” 

-- On the suicide of Alireza Pahlavi, the youngest son of the late Shah Mohammed Reza Pahlavi.  From “Persia’s Little Prince” by Karim Sadjadpour, published in the 7 January 2011 edition of Foreign Policy.

 

It’s all well and good for us to complain about the privacy issues we’re all risking as we compulsively, and publicly, update the mundanity of our lives.  That doesn’t seem to stop a lot of us from jamming the ionosphere with the latest posts and tweets about what we had for breakfast, how we’re feeling that day, or the latest triumphant monetary goal on Kickstarter.  But what if these tools—our blogs, tweets and posts—were the only ways in which we could communicate when we were in real trouble?  When no one from “the outside world” had any idea that the leaders whom we live under, in whom we place all of our faith and hope that our individual lives matter, had turned against us, were silencing us by cutting off our phone lines, our SMS feeds, our internet connections?  And were brutalizing and killing us in the streets.

In its last presidential elections, the citizenry of Iran experienced a profound deception.  Thus, the beginning of 2009 saw a revolution from mostly young Iranians who were placing all their hopes for change on the upcoming elections that June.  A peaceful, non-violent movement called the Green Wave was fueled by the modern modes of communication.  Journalists, lawyers, activists and students started blogs that challenged the status quo, calling for every citizen of Iran to personally participate in much-needed change by getting themselves to polling stations and casting their vote.  The groundswell of excitement was abetted by the fact that there was every indication that Mir Hossein Mousavi would garner a sure-fire victory over the incumbent, ultra-conservative Mahmoud Ahmadinejad. However, on June 12, 2009, Ahmadinejad, who has the full and public support of Iran’s spiritual leader, Ali Khameni, declared victory with a majority vote.

Ali Samadi Ahadi’s fourth film, The Green Wave, competing for the World Cinema Documentary jury prize at Sundance this year, begins as a calmly narrated, fairly traditional documentary.  The story is meticulously set up for the viewer, the omniscient narrator speaking in unaccented English in a clearly modulated voice. Through talking head interviews and slickly produced, precisely narrated animated scenes, the story of this second stolen election is revealed. The careful detail, the reliance of first-person accounts, the tone and mood of the country and the people at the time is explicitly recounted.  Which makes the onslaught of the most horrid human rights violations that follow all the more shocking and devastating, whether it’s directly from live footage or from recreated animations, and gives this documentary its urgency as a powerful testimony to a revolution solely documented by the victims of a vicious crackdown by the state militia, one fully sanctioned by Iran’s governmental and religious leaders.

As we circle back again and again to our storytellers, particularly the journalist, Mitra Khalatbari, human rights lawyer, Shadi Sadr, and blogger and journalist, Mehdi Mohseni, we realize that we are listening to Iranians in exile.  These young professionals and activists were swept up in the violence, and in (mostly) stoic fashion tell us what they experienced—from capture and imprisonment, to enforced informing, rape and torture—every human rights violation one can imagine.

Iranian authorities have often accused their own human rights lawyers and journalists of colluding with foreign governments to undermine the country’s Islamic government. Just this month, in the 10 January edition of the New York Times, William Yong reports on the Tehran sentencing of Nasrin Sotoudeh to eleven years in jail for “activities against national security” and “propaganda against the regime.” Five years of that sentence are for accusations that she was a founding member of the Defenders of Human Rights Center, an association of lawyers led by the Nobel Peace Prize winner Shirin Ebadi, who left Iran in the aftermath of the disputed 2009 presidential election and subsequent crackdown on opposition figures. Ebadi, who is featured prominently in Ahadi’s film, points out, quite a few times, that human rights violations in Iran continue to be ignored by Europe and the rest of the world.  Silence is one thing, but countries like Germany (where the film’s director is based), France and the UK still sign contracts and business treaties with Iran, keeping it financially powerful on the world stage despite now very public knowledge that human rights violations continue unabated.

The Green Wave is an important addition to the growing archive of this vital documentation.  The first-hand accounts of arrests, torture, brutality, kidnappings and murders are there, irrevocable, undeniable.  They live on twitter feeds, on Facebook, on YouTube, and now in this film, messages and footage of citizens paying the price for raising their voices, by asking what happened to their votes, for ignoring the directives of their leaders to keep silent.

Towards the end of the film, former UN prosecutor, Dr. Payam Akhavan, talks about the “seismic shift, the democratic tidal wave” that occurred in Iran in 2009.  He goes on to say, “It’s very hard to imagine that this systematic, wide spread violence against thousands and thousands of protestors, this use of rape and torture against thousands and thousands of victims, is done without the acquiescence, if not the express instructions of those in positions of authority.  . . . Today, it may not be possible to bring these people to justice.  But we know from history, that those who are in power today may not be in power tomorrow.  And the leaders of Iran today have to think about the consequences of their actions.  They have to understand that their crimes are being documented, are being recorded, and a day will come when they have to answer.”

 

 

KINO SATELLITE: Convergence

Warning:  This blog post contains inordinate amounts of shameless self-promotion.

Next Tuesday, November 2, a new screening series will launch at Berlin's Direktorenhaus in the Mitte district.  Film critic and co-director of Benten Films, Andrew Grant, and I will début our weekly series.  We've dubbed it KINO SATELLITE.  Our lovely logo was created--in record time--by filmmaker and designer, Eliane Lazzaris.  We'll be hosting shows in a newly-built micro-cinema every Tuesday evening, curating programs of new, innovative and groundbreaking work from some of today's most talented filmmakers, animators and multi-media artists.  Material will consist of original programming, as well as co-presentations, with an emphasis on the illustrative arts.

Direktorenhaus is a newly-renovated art and performance space "where a simulation of a temporary Gesamtkunstwerk, the total artwork, is explored.  Traditional methods are coupled with analogue technology and digital media, presenting an experimental directive with social resonances, breaking down the boundaries between art and design."  It also happens to be located in a super sexy spot, housed in a big mansion that sits directly on the riverbank of the Spree.

The owners of the gallery, Pascal Johanssen and Katja Kleiss, were looking to host a weekly screening series in their new space, a renovated two-floor gallery (with studio space for visiting artists).  The house was the dwelling of the director of the State Mint (thus, Das Direktorenhaus).  Clare Molloy, the invincible programs coordinator, and I had conversations about this in late summer.  A bit daunted by taking something like this on all on my own, I found the perfect producing and curating partner in Andrew Grant.  He moved here about a month after I did, and when I took him to see the space and asked him if he'd be interested in collaborating with me, he jumped out of his skin with excitment at the opportunity.  He and I believe strongly that the only way underrepresented work gets seen is through this bespoke way of creating a community of like-minded individuals--the people that make the work and the people that want to access it for a regular dose of inspiration.  The gallery's dedication and commitment to support such work makes them an ideal partner.

Opening the series on Tuesday will be Alison S.M. Kobayashi, a Japanese / Canadian multi-disciplinary artist.  She was one of the guest artists at the Flaherty Seminar in 2008 when I was there as a Fellow.  Kobayahsi will be presenting four of her distinctive video pieces.  Joining us for the second half will be Christopher Allen, creative director and founder of Brooklyn's UnionDocs documentary collaborative.  Both of them will be there in person.  In fact, Kobayashi and Allen happen to be on their European honeymoon.  Lucky for us Berlin was on their itinerary.  We're thrilled that they'll be here with us.  As well, all of the work they will be showing will be Berlin premieres.  (Pictured, Kobayashi in Dan Carter.)

Shows to come include an evening dedicated to the films of avant-garde filmmaker, Ken Jacobs; a screening of Berlin-based producer and director Zoran Solomun's wonderful feature-length doc, Super Art Market (with the director and special guests in attendance for a post-screening discussion); a co-presentation with the Warsaw-based animation and special effects production house, Platige Image, with brand-new works by some of Poland's most incredible animation artists; a co-presentation with Portland, Oregon-based distributor, A Million Movies a Minute, run by Steady Diet of Film's Erin Donovan; a show of new German animation and an AnimaDoc show fresh from the Leipzig fest; a co-presentation with Rotterdam-based film collective, WORM.kino; an evening of music, food and multiple projections of London-based artist Max Hattler's work; and more.

Right now, we are a "satellite" on Direktorenhaus' website and on their Facebook page.  That's where you can look for info on upcoming shows.  Andrew and I are also very open to receiving submissions and ideas for collaborations, particularly from Berlin-based artists.  We look forward to meeting our audiences.  (Pictured, still from Michal Socha's Chick, Poland, 2008.)

Next week, I'm off on a European tour of my own as I make my way to Sheffield in the UK, CPH:DOX in Copenhagen, a few days back in Berlin to host a show, and then off again to Amsterdam for IDFA.  It's bound to be an invigorating, sleepless, alcohol-infused joyride--pitching projects, screening films, meeting filmmakers, partying.  Rinse, repeat.  And I'm so looking foward to seeing friends I haven't seen in a while.  Wir sehen uns im Kino, meine Schätze.

TAFASEEL--A New Online Documentary Magazine Débuts

The first issue of TAFASEEL, a new quarterly magazine on the art and industry of documentary is now online.  The online version will be published four times a year and a free (condensed) printed version will be distributed at major film festivals around the world.  As one of the first subscribers, you can register for free on the site for a limited time.

The Damascus Syria-based publishers say that they "will provide a window to the world of documentary in Arabic, its makers, markets, opportunities, schools and culture, and a window in English for finding out more and more about the documentary in the Arab world, its makers, their films, the market, the players and the history."  I am honored to be a contributing writer to this site.  Pay a visit!

Global Film Initiative Call for Entries

The Global Film Initiative's call for entries is now open for its summer 2010 feature film production grants of up to $10,000.  GFI helps promote and fund narrative filmmaking from various regions around the world.  Applications will be accepted through the 15th of July with decisions announced in September.  Completion production grants are offered twice a year to filmmakers whose work exhibits "artistic excellence, authentic self-representation, and accomplished storytelling" and are meant to further the development of local film industries and their audiences.  Grants can also be used to subsidize post-production costs such as lab and sound mixing fees and access to state-of-the-art editing suites. 

Decisions are made based upon completed screenplays and early film footage, and may also include a pre-sale option for exclusive US distribution.  Applicants may submit more than one project for consideration.  The specific qualifying countries or regions are:  Latin America, the Caribbean, Africa, the Middle East, Asia (excluding Hong Kong, Iran, Japan, Singapore, South Korea and Taiwan), and Oceania (excluding Australia and New Zealand).  Grants are not available for documentaries or short films.  Here's the link to the application and guidelines.

The Global Film Initiative is a US-based nonprofit organization specializing in the support of independent film from Africa, Asia, Latin America and the Middle East and was founded in 2002 to promote cross-cultural understanding through cinema.  They also support a touring film series entitled Global Lens.

Notes from Toronto and Sneak Preview Screening of ATOMIC MOM in NYC

Just zipped up to Toronto this afternoon for the beginning of the incredible Hot Docs festival, one of my faves, never miss it.  I always come away from this event having seen some really outstanding international nonfiction work, courtesy of the superb programming team led by Mr. Sean Farnel.  I'm just trying to figure out how I'm going to see the thirty, or so, films on my must-see list before I leave and attend some conference sessions and go to all the lovely parties, including a picnic on Sunday afternoon (and many, many late nights drinking at Toronto's hottest clubs).  You can take a gander here at some of what's on tap.  Unfortunately, I will have to leave before the Toronto Documentary Forum begins (May 5 and 6), organized by the incredible Elizabeth Radshaw, but at least I got to go as an observer last year.  (Film still from Thomas Balmès' Babies.) 

I'm also thrilled to have been asked to host a panel discussion as part of the Conference & Market this year called Ripping Reality--Creativity and the New Documentary, the first conference session on Tuesday, May 4 at 11:00 a.m.  I'll be joined by filmmakers, John Appel from the Netherlands, The Player; Pawel Lozinski from Poland, Chemo; Liz Mermin from the UK, Horses; and Ken Wardrop from Ireland, His & Hers.  I highly recommend catching all of these superb films at the fest.  We will have an hour-long discussion in the beautiful Vic College chapel (including showing clips from all the films) with a 15-minute audience Q&A to follow.  Join us!

I'll also be participating in a new initiative this year called Leave the Walls at the Door, an interactive documentary think-tank workshop where roundtables of selected producers and media makers will discuss how to bring a documentary project to life interactively.  We participants will be divided into "ideation" groups, each of which will collaboratively brainstorm on, well, on something--we won't know until we get there.  (We were chosen because we are all working on interactive reality-based projects.)  The initiative is presented by the CFC Media Lab in conjunction with the Hot Docs Conference. 

I will be filing several posts here and on the newly-refreshed Hammer to Nail site in coming days.

Meanwhile, in NYC, Hibakusha Stories and the Maysles Theater will co-present "Docs on Nukes: Nuclear Narrative Through the Art of Film," on Mother's Day, May 9.  There will be a sneak preview screening of M.T. Silvia's Atomic Mom, a documentary about two mothers, one American and one Japanese, each of whom had very close encounters with the atomic bomb.  Silvia is the daughter of one of these women and the film follows her quest for the truth about the work her mother did during nuclear testing in the desert of New Mexico.  It's an incredibly moving and very personal film.  Atomic Mom was the second installment in my Projects On the Brink series--you can read it here.  (Which reminds me that I really would like to do another installment, so I'm taking suggestions of female-helmed nonfiction projects about to finish and launch into the world.) 

Accompanying Silvia's film will be Kathy Sloane's 16-minute, Witness to Hiroshima, about Keiji Tsuchiya, an artist who uses his twelve powerful watercolors to recount his experiences in Hiroshima as a 17-year-old soldier when the atomic bomb was dropped.  He relates those experiences to his subsequent life-long commitment to saving the Japanese horseshoe crab and its habitat.  You can watch the trailer here.  Silvia and Sloane, both San Francisco-based filmmakers, will be on hand for a post-screening discussion.  Go to the Maysles Cinema site for more info.

Why I Love Mike Tully, Reason #482

The TAKE-BACK Manifesto:  read it here.

The Glass House

Educational and non-theatrical DVDs of this moving and intimate documentary by Hamid Rahmanian are now available in a limited release to coincide with No-Rooz, the celebration of the Persian new year.

The Glass House tells the story of Omid-e-Mehr, a center for girls in the heart of Tehran.  The Omid-e-Mehr Foundation was founded in Iran in 2004, in London in 2006, and in the US in 2008, by the formidable Marjaneh Halati, an Iranian-born, London-based social psychologist and psychotherapist.  Under her guidance, the workers at the center are tasked with providing a holistic (and loving) approach to helping the young women that come there in realizing self-awareness, self-determination and self-sufficiency in modern Iranian society.  These young women come from abusive homes, are motherless, have drug addictions, or just do not have the supportive resources at hand for growing up as healthy and happy members of a still quite repressive society for women.

Director Rahmanian gains deep trust and intimate access to Halati and some of her charges.  The film was an official selection at the Sundance Film Festival in 2009, opened the IRI-Continental Film Festival in South Africa, won the Human Rights Award at Dokufest in Kosovo, and was also a selection of the IDFA last year.  There are a series of community screenings set for this year that various individuals are hosting around the world.  The newly-released DVD includes scenes not included in the final cut of the film, an extended interview with Halati, and a short film called Saman.  Visit the film's website to learn more about the film and its makers, and to order the DVD.

Culture Talk Network.com

My beautiful Iranian friend, Neda Sarmast (with whom I've had many surreal experiences in Dubai), sends word that she has started a new online destination for cross-cultural discourse, debate and understanding.  Once you log onto the site, you can create your own group, as well as join in on the larger chats.  Her home base lives on Facebook here. 

There's a lot of interesting stuff to dive into.  You can choose to visit Iran and talk about Persian culture, or click the USA button for discussions on American culture.  There are also existing communities for faith-based cultures, Christian, Jewish, Muslim and Buddhist, with more to be added soon.  On Neda's blog, you can read more about who she is, her personal journey, and why she decided to start this venture.  Here's the link.

The Most Dangerous Man in America

While watching this superbly crafted, and deeply emotional, film by Judith Ehrlich and Rick Goldsmith, I kept thinking about, and hoping, that there might be a Daniel Ellsberg figure (or several) that will soon blow the lid off the 9/11 "conspiracy," the resultant Iraq invasion, and the Bush Administration's culpability in waging a war based on lies and deception, a grand-scale swindle on the citizens of the United States, not to mention those citizens of a country we've helped to destroy through the auspices of, once again, shoving a misunderstood notion of democracy down an unwitting nation's throat.  And killing so many innocent people in the process on both sides of the line.  Our invasive actions, waged for no valid reason except "empire," are problematic.  But what's even more scandalous is the rhetoric set forth for public consumption by national government and corporate media and the concomitant complicity in the charade--by us all.  History will not look kindly.

The surface story of The Most Dangerous Man in America, Daniel Ellsberg and the Pentagon Papers, is of a man who in 1971 transformed himself (again, the immediacy of recent history brought to life through one individual's experience) from a leading Vietnam War strategist, dedicated Cold Warrior, and Washington insider holding many powerful cards, to a private citizen who decides to place himself squarely in the center of a maelstrom that exposed devastating national secrets, acting as the catalyst (with the help of a few brave people including his second wife and  soulmate, Patricia Marx, and fellow RAND Corporation colleague, Anthony Russo) that set irrevocable things in motion, including the resignation of a twice-elected US president, Richard Nixon.  This series of events also saw profound changes in our understanding of "separation of powers" because of his actions.  He was a man who knew how things worked from the inside and this enabled him to grasp and expose the powerful proof he needed to crack things open.  But what Ehrlich and Goldsmith can, and do, illustrate since they have Ellsberg himself to narrate and tell his own story, along with a highly articulate Greek chorus of subjects who were involved, is the personal memory of the ideological and spiritual awakening of an individual stumbling through the labyrinths of the deepest parts of himself.  The excruciating pain and effort this took, the personal sacrifices that had to be made, is this story's real backbone.

I think the reverberations that resound through the last several decades to the present day give this piece an even more substantive heft than it already has, its object lessons about an asleep-at-the-wheel citizenry and the ramifications of mass lethargy and passivity, dazzlingly clear.  The film's artifice is in its presentation of Ellsberg's story, in the mood and tempo of the cat-and-mouse nature of a true crime thriller, setting forth the rapid unraveling of a whole nation's most cherished institutions.  Even the dopey, child-like animation that's used to describe the "heist" as it happened, is fitting in its portrayal of the absolute absurdity of a man in his office late at night xeroxing 7000 pages of incriminating evidence, his teenage kids in the room with him helping him get through this Herculean task, one manning the copy machine, the other cutting off the TOP SECRET stamps on the tops and bottoms of every single page with a pair of scissors like a runaway school art project.  Now, of course, this could be sent by a push of a button on a computer keyboard.

The research and presentation of archival material is absolutely superb, most especially the recordings of an, obviously, deranged and unhinged Richard Nixon, whose personal vendetta against Ellsberg was his ultimate undoing.  Nixon to Attorney General John Mitchell in June of '71, the day after Ellsberg surrendered to federal officials in Boston:  "Just because some guy's going to be a martyr, we can't be in a position of allowing the fellow to get away with this kind of wholesale thievery, otherwise it's going to happen all over the government.  I just say we've got to keep our eye on the main ball.  The main ball is Ellsberg.  We've got to get this son-of-a-bitch."  It turns out it wasn't really the Watergate Hotel break-in that was the event that broke everything open in terms of exposing the Nixon administration's many crimes, but the discovery that Ellsberg had been recorded on illegal wiretaps for two years.  In May of '73, Tony Russo and Daniel Ellsberg's trial was dismissed by the judge because of massive government misconduct and all charges, including theft and conspiracy, against the two men were dropped.  Nixon again (to Alexander Haig and HR Haldeman):  "Son-of-a-bitchin' thief is made a national hero and is gonna get off on a mistrial.  The New York Times gets a Pulitzer Prize for stealing documents.  They're trying to get at us with thieves.  What in the name of God have we come to?"

With exceedingly well-crafted and intelligent interviews, deft, expertly-paced editing by Michael Chandler, Lawrence Lerew and Goldsmith, and a tightly written script by Lerew, Goldsmith, Ehrlich and Chandler, The Most Dangerous Man in America should be required viewing for every citizen in this nation.  The film opens at the Cinema Village in New York this Friday.  Check here for opening dates in theaters in other cities.

For DocPointers:  the film screens in Helsinki again at the BioRex at 1:00 p.m. on Sunday.

Truth Is an Inspiration

In preparation for talking about Judith Ehrlich and Rick Goldsmith's new film, The Most Dangerous Man in America, Daniel Ellsberg and the Pentagon Papers, a film that moved me profoundly, I thought I would share an article I wrote that was published in the last issue of DOX Magazine about hybrid historical documentaries.  While Ehrlich and Goldsmith's film differs a bit from the three films I talk about here, there are innate connections to how creative documentarians can create works that reference "history" in nonfiction storytelling.  It's a theme I've addressed before, particularly in terms of this propensity on some critics' parts to judge a piece of cinema that mixes fiction and nonfiction to tell a true story in a very negative light.  My essay on this blog, written after last year's True/False festival, about one of the films talked about here, Burma VJ, in fact was fueled by one of these reviews, a particularly boneheaded one for its intense myopia and lack of generosity in reviewing nonfiction cinema on its own terms.  It made my blood boil, but it also made me think deeply about these issues.  So here it is:

There are several new films which use re-constructions of events of the recent past that are standouts for their vigilant practice of every nonfiction filmmakers’ imperative: the freedom to be honest. Within that exploration, what connotes “honesty” in documentary and how the blending of fiction (re-enactments) and reality (archival and live interviews) enhance one another, create a singular type of storytelling. 

There is a new facility in doing a re-constructed historical documentary that, to my mind, is revolutionary for the form.  There are still a lot of very stodgy ways of cinematically presenting "History" that essentially act to remove us even further from past events still strongly resonating in our collective consciousness.  Emotionally engaging with the story, and the subjects involved, is a whole other set of issues with which a few filmmakers working in the current feature-length nonfiction genre have chosen to grapple, enticing audiences to actively participate and deeply think about the ever-changing, politically-motivated interpretations of seismic events through one individual's, or one particular group's, very personal experience.  (Still from Ari Folman's multiple-award winning Waltz With Bashir.)

The featured filmmakers here have chosen to use various creative tools in their arsenal, not only to re-envision an authentic account of how things went down, but to craft their films in very cinematic ways, borrowing much from the narrative tradition. It's a very dynamic, engaging, and, most importantly, highly emotional type of storytelling, providing an intense participatory experience for a viewer.  And isn’t that why we go to the movies?

The Fixer:  The Taking of Ajmal Naqshbandi

Ian Olds’ latest film is, in essence, a tribute to a young man (an Afghani journalist, “fixer” and interpreter for foreign journalists from the West) who lost his life by being at the wrong place at the wrong time. One could also say, he was born in, lived out his life, and worked in a country where a man of his intelligence and dedication could easily be fodder for a wide array of parties with various agendas. The Fixer, which aired on HBO late summer 2009, maintains its primary commitment throughout—to tell the truth.  As Olds stated in an interview with Robyn Hillman-Harrigan on The Huffington Post site:  “I felt that just to focus on loss does a profound disservice to the truth, and to Ajmal. A focus on this devastating loss is something that we as a Western audience can relate to, but to focus on this man's life in the context of what's really going on in that country, is history empowered.”  [italics mine]

The viewer knows from the first few seconds of the film that the main subject has died under some pretty brutal circumstances at the hands of Taliban captors.  Olds continues:  “. . . he died at a very specific moment, in a specific place.  The aim of the film is to invoke this web of history and power in which he was caught, while never losing sight of the man.”  Olds has edited the piece anti-chronologically to great effect, in part because  he distinctly did not want to use Ajmal’s death as any sort of dramatic device. After knowing the outcome of the featured subject, the rest of the film tries to answer the question “why” by spooling out the event backwards and forwards in time in a structurally complex storyline. In this way, the filmmaker provides a key, or guide, which can unlock the past, including as many subtleties and complexities as he can muster along the way. Rather than a strict linear narrative, the film flashes back and forth for the sole purpose of “unraveling meaning.”

Olds talks about Afghanistan as a “buffer state,” a land divvied up between various power players, the British Empire, the Russian Empire, etc.  He also sees Ajmal as a  “buffer” individual, insinuating himself between the Italians, the Taliban, the Afghan government and the U.S., providing a human analogy for the place within which he resides.  In other words, Afghanistan is essentially powerless on the world stage, yet provides the perfect stage to be played upon by world powers and therein lies the human- scale tragedy of its inhabitants.  The film supplies the emotional through line in which we can explore those themes.  It allows for a human-scale contextualization, something mass media rarely, if ever, sets out to do.

Paying attention to that context at all times, Olds began to simply “follow the trail,” swept along by the events that had already unfolded, organically searching for (and finding) ways in which to tell the story, knowing that a film “shouldn’t be just a drama unfolding or a certain circumstance or set of circumstances. It should be about an idea.” In this way, the best of nonfiction filmmaking can be engaged with the world through its own language, the one of cinema. Ideas are important, certainly, but it is the emotional movement across the surface of the tale that is the overarching resonant factor for both the director and the viewer. Speaking subjectively, Olds can say that by “bringing my own [personal] experience of discovery accompanied by the memory of moving through that space, showing what it felt and sounded like acts as the litmus in making a film that reflects that emotional spectrum. Rhythms are the key to creating a deeply resonant experience for your viewer since that rhythm reflects the pace of one human life.”

Sergio

In the last years of his life, consummate diplomat Sergio Vieira de Mello was reluctantly persuaded by Kofi Anaan, then Secretary General of the UN, Condoleezza Rice, then US Secretary of State under George W. Bush, and Tony Blair, then British Prime Minister, to take up the post as United Nations ambassador to a freshly invaded Iraq, a war to which de Mello was vehemently opposed. He would die in the midst of that invasion, despite his personal point of view. On August 19, 2003, a deadly bomb struck the UN headquarters in Baghdad where de Mello was working, marking a watershed moment: for the first time in history, the United Nations had become a target of terrorism. Filmmaker Greg Barker recreates the events of that day in a very forceful and visceral way by expertly melding harrowing, and extremely emotional, testimony from Sergio’s fiancée, Carolina Larriera, and the military paramedics who risked their own lives to try and save de Mello.

Sergio is based on historian and activist Samantha Power’s biography, Chasing the Flame: One Man’s Fight to Save the World. The film interlaces the haunting archival footage shot on the day of the bombing in Baghdad, and the dramatic reenactments of the rescue attempt by two US Army reservists, Bill von Zehle and Andre Valentine, to save de Mello and Gil Loescher, a civilian expert on refugees, both trapped underneath the rubble from the explosion. They would successfully rescue Loescher; they were not, however, able to save de Mello.  The two men, in operatic and devastating re-enactments, re-live that day again in the film, generously sharing that pain and fear with the rest of us.  The emotional impact of watching this cannot be overstated for it resides in the marrow of a collective traumatic memory.

With a background in international relations and economics, Barker has filmed and worked in more than 50 countries on six continents, always drawn to “character-driven stories that also illuminate how global politics really work—who wins, who loses, what the real priorities are behind politicians’ lofty rhetoric,” finding the truth out of a very complex reality. Sergio de Mello also immersed himself in the world’s complexities, inhabiting the shades of gray between “right” and “wrong.” This is the same gray area where Barker finds he can tell complex stories, the place where real progress in our understanding of the world around us is made, enabling him to make a film through the retrospective lens of history by using one man’s experience and commitment to making peace between warring nations.  

In the tradition of Herzog’s Little Dieter Needs to Fly, we watch as the subjects who were there that day relive the event on the screen. Barker directed the two men in long takes to let the re-enactment of their partially successful rescue mission play out completely, all in one go.  So, as highly directed and expertly created as these segments were, there is also a strong nod to the vérité tradition, capturing something as it’s happening in the moment, and the emotions, of course, are very, very real.  Sergio will broadcast on HBO this spring, with special screenings planned at the UN and other overseas festivals throughout the year.

Burma VJ

With Joshua, the Burmese VJ (video journalist) of the title as our conduit, the radical condition of the “hidden” country of Burma is brought to lush life, creating a deeply resonant experience of the human fight against oppression. Burma VJ displays visceral insight into civilian journalism and dissidence in a police state while providing thorough, painstaking, and outright thrilling, documentation of the dramatic days of September 2007, when Buddhist monks led a citizen march for peace and freedom against a repressive régime.

Danish filmmaker Anders Østergaard has been making nonfiction cinema for years and is well schooled in the organic process of crafting a story, patient enough to let it reveal to its maker how it should be told. This feature-length tour-de-force was originally meant to be a 30-minute film on Joshua and his experiences working as a clandestine operative in Thailand, orchestrating both professional and amateur video journalists in capturing the uprising in the capital city of Burma when it was closed to outside journalists so that footage could be smuggled out and disseminated throughout the world.

Østergaard explained to me in a phone conversation that this documentary short would, out of necessity, have had to have been made using mostly recreation, a much higher percentage than was used in the final film.  Yet when it became possible to use the authentic footage, it enabled the director to create a timeline with immediacy, a story played out moment by moment. Directly because of this, the fictional elements or re-creations, take on an even more powerful role in knitting together the whole story.

Østergaard’s overriding desire when making nonfiction films is to “go inside space and time, to fight the ‘provincialism’ of time.” He also explains that there is a whole way of working with archival footage as a graphical element, an element that enhances the creation for context, emotion, mood, tension, and a deep connection with the material when positioned within that specific context. The desire to “really go to places in time and space” is essential for a full experience, but Østergaard is careful to note, it still qualifies unequivocally as documentary since its main interest is in what actually happened; there is no indication that what is being presented is supposition or conjecture.  “The truth is an inspiration and the details [of that truth] give one the texture of the story.”

The political energy of the footage speaks for itself, framed for the biggest emotional impact possible.  Yet as Østergaard points out, “The filmmaker is a chronicler, certainly, but we can never be a slave to the footage.  It is not the quality of that footage so much as its political relevance that is utmost in importance.  You lose clarity otherwise, and the focus of the main event; the ‘History’ gets submerged in irrelevant footage and other elements that only help to cloud the story, not reveal it and set it forth.”

It is the revelation of these little-known heroes’ stories in the shadow of history’s big events that will, hopefully, continue to push the way historical documentaries are crafted.  We need more stories that feature different racial, ethnic and gender perspectives on history; we need to continue to re-create those intimate moments of a life hidden from history for this tells us everything about what it means to be human and creates a revolutionary dialectic in form and content, proposing no final answers except the unending struggle of human beings making something out of what history has made of them. The hard and fast categories of fiction and documentary melt away; there is an insistence that both forms are equally mediated by the intention of the filmmaker, and that that hybrid thus requires a fresh critical stance and a more precise notion of this dialectical imperative on the part of a thinking audience.  It can help redefine some of the more cherished assumptions of a documentary film experience.  These filmmakers have beautifully shown us that the drama of one human life deserves as much.

 

 

First Run Features Releases Six New Documentaries in Theaters

New York-based distributor, First Run Features, is set to theatrically début six new American-made documentaries this winter. 

Opening Friday, January 8 at the Cinema Village is Waiting for Armageddon, directed by award-winning filmmakers, Kate Davis, David Heilbroner and Franco Sacchi.  This 2009 release, which premiered at the New York Film Festival, is about America's 50-million strong Evangelical community.  This population, which spans most of the country, is convinced that the world's future is foretold in Biblical prophecy.  The filmmakers explore, among other things, the politically powerful alliance between Evangelical Christians and the State of Israel and how Armageddon theology has had profound consequences both politically, and between various faiths, in the US and Israel.  Armageddon, the film, is handled with a determinedly, non-judgmental approach; there is no narration, nor do the filmmakers seek to demonize anyone, allowing the subjects to speak for themselves.  This is an extremely important document for dialogue and, in fact, the night before the film premieres at Cinema Village, an interfaith roundtable will be presented, in conjunction with New York University, at the Puck Building on the 7th of January.  There will be influential community leaders, religious leaders and other interfaith-based organizations coming together for discussion.  Clips from the film will be used as a catalyst for conversation.  (Keep checking this site and the film's Facebook page for upcoming info.)  The event will be open and free to the public; seating is limited to 120, including press.  Filmmakers and other special guests will also be on hand at most theater screenings in New York throughout the week.  The film will then head to Boston and Providence, RI, later in January.  Also, co-director, David Heilbroner has a first-person guest blog post on the Huffington Post today about the film.  Check it out here.  Thus far, there are over 200 comments attached to that post!  The film is supported, in part, by the Foundation for Jewish Culture, with outreach support from the Fledgling Fund.

On January 29th, Nicole Opper's Off and Running will premiere at the IFC Center, with special guest hosts almost every night and the filmmaker present at the theater for Q&As.  Set in Brooklyn, Opper's feature début is a collaboration with her main subject, Avery Klein-Cloud (pictured above); the partnership garnered them the Writers Guild of America Documentary Screenplay Award at this year's SILVERDOCS and the film also received jury prizes for Outstanding Doc at Outfest and Philadelphia's Q Fest.  The film premiered at the '09 Tribeca Film Festival (where it was a top-ten audience fave) and will have its national broadcast début on PBS' P.O.V. 2010 series, airing next November.  There is already quite a groundswell of excitement and support for this film in many different communities throughout the nation, particularly here in New York City, and many of independent film's most prestigious and important organizations have been behind it from the start--Tribeca All Access, ITVS, P.O.V., the IFP, DocuClub and New York Women in Film and Television, among others.  Opper was also named one of FILMMAKER Magazine's 25 New Faces of Independent Film this year.  Off and Running tells the story of the Klein-Cloud family, a white female couple who are raising three children in a loving Jewish household.  Before meeting, they had each adopted a child, Tova adopting Rafi, a mixed-race boy, Travis adopting Avery, an African-American girl; after many years together, they also adopted, Zay-Zay, a Korean boy.  As Avery nears the end of her high school career and is getting ready for college, she starts to have an urgent need to contact her birth mother, curious about the African-American roots she's never explored.  This begins somewhat of a rocky journey, one familiar to us all, as she searches for her true north and tries to gather together all the disparate elements of her identity--African American, Jew, transracial adoptee, athlete, sister, daughter.  Click here to see the trailer and read more.  Also check back on this site for other up-and-coming extracurricular activities associated with the film.  Also coming soon, an extended interview with Opper to add to my arsenal of chats with kick-ass female directors.  (There is a book coming, I promise.)

Opening across the country beginning February 5 is Judith Erlich and Rick Goldsmith's The Most Dangerous Man in America: Daniel Ellsberg and the Pentagon Papers.  This doc is the co-winner of this year's Freedom of Expression Award from the National Board of Review and was one of their picks for five best docs of the year.  It also won a special jury prize at the IDFA and is a contender for this year's best doc Oscar prize.  Daniel Ellsberg, a high-level Pentagon official and Vietnam War strategist leaked 7,000 pages of top secret documents to the New York Times in 1971 when he concluded that the war was based on decades of lies and falsehoods perpetrated by the US government.  This was a watershed moment in history that led directly to the Watergate scandal, Nixon's resignation from the presidency, and the end of the Vietnam War.  It was then-Secretary of State, Henry Kissinger, who called Ellsberg "the most dangerous man in America."

Opening in New York on February 26 at the Cinema Village and then in San Francisco, Berkeley, Seattle, Washington, DC, Boston, Philadelphia, Denver and Atlanta beginning on March 5, Prodigal Sons will launch its nationwide theatrical run.  This film, since its festival opening in Telluride in September 08, has had a really magical festival run, and the film's director, Kimberly Reed, has had a chance to see first-hand how audiences respond to her riveting and open-hearted personal documentary story.  The film breaks fresh ground in almost every way.  Like Opper's family story, this one is so distinct and individual, dealing with issues most of us might feel we're very far away from, but in fact, transcends its boundaries of circumstance to leave us feeling like we've met another family we can admire and love, a family closer to our own than we would have first thought.  Journalists and juries and audiences have adored this film from all corners of the globe.  There's a full press archive on the site here if you want to link and read some items (or all of them).  Reed, a transgender woman, returns to the small town in Montana where she grew up.  She initially took a camera in tow with DP and co-producer, John Keitel, because the trip home was to go to her high school reunion--the first time her classmates would meet her as Kim, instead of the young Paul McKerrow who graduated with them, star athlete, honor student and all-around stud.  But the story goes to the heart of the matter very quickly when she comes back together with her estranged brother, Marc, a man who's gone through many changes in as many profound ways as Kim has, and whom she hasn't seen in almost 10 years.  Look for Reed and the film to be featured in an article in the February issue of Details Magazine with an essay written by Rick Moody.  There will be several press and media events surrounding this film leading up to its run with social engagement and outreach partners, including a Film Talk interview with Reed in mid-February.  (Carol McKerrow, Marc McKerrow, Kimberly Reed, pictured.)

Opening in New York on March 12 will be Tales from the Script, Peter Hanson's from-the-horse's-mouth ode to screenwriting, with encounters and anecdotes from Shane Black (Lethal Weapon), John Carpenter (Halloween), Frank Darabont (The Shawshank Redemption), William Goldman (Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid), Paul Schrader (Taxi Driver), and others.  Sharing never-before-told behind the scenes stories, the writers describe their collaborations (or lack thereof) with the likes of Harrison Ford, Morgan Freeman, Stanley Kubrick, Martin Scorsese and Steven Spielberg.  There will be a companion book published by IT Books, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers, that will be in stores in late January.

Lastly, opening on the 26th of March in New York and, then, nationwide in April is Dancing Across Borders, a new feature doc which chronicles the story of Sokvannara Sar, a dancer discovered by arts patron, Anne Bass, on a trip to Angkor Wat, Cambodia in 2000 and brought to the ballet stage here in America.  The film explores Sy's relationship with his new milieu, the world of American ballet, and his new culture.  The film was directed by Bass and was photographed by Bob Elstrom, Anthony Forma and Tom Hurwitz.

Wunnerful, wunnerful that all these independent docs are getting a crack at getting their name on a movie marquee.  Good start to the new year.

Mertes at Doc U, THIRTEEN at DCTV, WITNESS, Hungry Filmmakers and More

I offer a post of interesting (at least to me) miscellany before holiday party madness starts in earnest.  I hope you all have a bright, shiny season ahead of you filled with laughter, love and good cheer.  And latkes.

First off, if you'd like to watch the New York Film / Video Council presentation and panel discussion I moderated at DCTV last month with PBS' Channel 13, UnionDocs and 12films12weeks, you can view it on the Thirteen Forum here.  The actual panel discussion that follows the different participant presentations starts about 45 minutes in.

In Los Angeles on Monday the 14th, the International Documentary Association hosts an evening with Sundance Institute's Cara Mertes at its last Doc U session of 2009 at the Kodak Screening Room in Hollywood.  Don't miss this opportunity to engage with one of the most knowledgeable, charismatic and eloquent speakers about international independent documentary.  Mertes has a truly global perspective and is incredibly passionate about nonfiction storytelling.  I always am so inspired after listening to her.  She also plans on bringing a sneak peek of an upcoming Documentary Film Program project scheduled to screen at the Sundance fest next month.  Click here for event details and to reserve yourself a spot. 

Monday night here in New York brings a very special program courtesy of the Flaherty Film Seminar.  Join them as they present films produced by WITNESS and discuss the impact of some recent advocacy videos produced by grassroots international human rights defenders.  Founded in 1992, WITNESS has empowered many ordinary citizens to use a video camera to shine a light on those most affected by human rights violations, transforming personal stories of abuse into powerful tools for change.  Join several filmmakers and representatives from WITNESS at 7:30 at Anthology Film Archives. 

Never let it be said that we have lack of choice in our fair city because also on Monday evening, Shooting People will host a screening at DCTV of HomeGrown by Robert McFalls.  Annie Kovak (voted cutest farmer on Huffington Post!) will host a Skype Q&A with the founder of the homegrown revolution project on which the film focuses.  Click here for more info.

And speaking of organic-osity, at Anthology on Tuesday night the 15th at 7:30 p.m., is a really yummy event.  The Hungry Filmmakers collective will host an evening featuring excerpts from six upcoming food-oriented films followed by a Q&A and panel discussion moderated by food activist and author, Anna Lappé.  Then join in an after-party with hors d'oeuvres served from local and sustainably-minded food and beverage purveyors at the Good Beer Seat bar, Jimmy's No. 43.  The films featured will be What's Organic About Organic? by Shelley Rogers, Big River and Truck Farm by Curt Ellis and Ian Cheney (the hottest thing on a dance floor since John Travolta), The Greenhorns by Severine von Tscarner Fleming, Grown in Detroit by Manfred and Mascha Poppenk, Faces from the New Farm by Liz Thylander, Kat Shiffler and Lara Sheets, and an untitled film on climate change and food systems by Sara Grady.  Proceeds from the evening will be donated to nonprofit, Just Food, which works to promote access of fresh, seasonal, sustainably-grown food for all NYC residents.  How lovely of them.

That same evening on the west side at the IFC Center, Thom Powers screens the documentary of the astounding story of Dimitri Mobengo Mugianis created by Michel Negroponte called I'm Dangerous With Love.  Both director and subject will be there for a post-screening Q&A with Powers followed by the regular post-STF schmooze at 99 Below on MacDougall Street. 

Lastly, I'd like to give a mention to The Hunger Season screening on Thursday, December 17 at 7:30 p.m., hosted by Working Films and Chicken & Egg.  They invite people to come join them at Story Leads to Action--a monthly series at the 92YTribeca Screening Room.  The Hunger Season is a feature documentary directed by Beadie Finzi (Only When I Dance) which asks why, despite the massive UN food aid program, we still haven't figured out how to solve the hunger problem in this world.  The film, shot over the course of a year in Swaziland, the US and Europe, follows young teacher, Justice, and the children in his care in southern Africa, while also investigating the system of international humanitarian food aid, charting the chain of decision-making involved in how food aid is distributed, and to whom.  You can purchase tickets by clicking on the first link in this paragraph.

Fa-la la-la la, la-la la laaaaa.

Last Week in Havana: THE CLOSEST FARTHEST AWAY Debuts

Today in the Miami Herald's Theater section, reporter, Jordan Levin, covers the story of a groundbreaking multimedia theater performance piece created from an unprecedented collaboration between US and Cuban artists that world premiered at the Havana International Film Festival last week and will have its US premiere at the Global Cuba Fest in Miami Beach, March 11 - 14, 2010.  Last week, the show played three times at the 1,600-seat Teatro Mella in Havana, with a ticket price of just five Cuban pesos (about 20 cents).

La Entrañable Lejania tells the story of an American man in love with a Cuban woman and the show breaks new ground artistically, politically and technologically, with American actors performing onstage while Cuban cast members appear on large video screens, metaphorically representing the political separation of the two countries.  The show evolved over eleven years as 30-year-old California composer, Sage Lewis, traveled half a dozen times between the States and Havana, building the show with many of Cuba's most prominent artists with the idea of using technology to overcome practical and political barriers to collaboration.  He and his company traveled to the island using a US government license for artistic and academic research and garnered grants from various foundations to keep them going, including pro bono legal services and individual donations solicited online.  Audiovisual equipment was donated and brought to the island by Pastors for Peace.

Ever Chavez, the director of FUNDarte, and Beth Boone, artistic and executive director of the Miami Light Project (who exec produced the documentary I made in Cuba with Lisandro Pérez Rey in 2005 called La Fabri_K) came on board and connected the creators with official Cuban sponsors and will present the show's US premiere in Miami in March.  Both artistic organizations specialize in US-Cuba cultural projects.  Lewis emailed Boone a year and a half ago, just as she and Chavez began to hear about the project from friends both here and in Cuba.

Says Boone, "What I find significant about this piece right now, given the context of change, is that, as we've known all along in the arts community, art and artists are the most powerful agents of change.  I think people who take the time to experience Entrañable will be able to see firsthand that artificially imposed political barriers are folly.  Regular people have been making contact for years, whether physical or not, via telephone, the Internet and the making of art."

Lewis says that, "Our generation has a different point of view.  We don't really ignore history, but we just want to go back and forth, make art, have a normal healthy relationship."  The title The Closest Farthest Away is evocative of the fact that, "We're so close geographically [just 90 miles] and have so much in common culturally, yet Cuba is the farthest country from the US, the hardest to talk to, to travel to.  So it's this paradox." 

You can watch a preview of La Entrañable Lejania, and also see the exhaustive documentation of its creation on the website.

Projects On the Brink: Episode Two

In early September, I posted Episode One of my nascent blog series, Projects On the Brink.  Considering it's now December, we'll say I'll be doing this quarterly.  (Photo by Julie Shiels.)

For a quick review, I am highlighting and celebrating independent nonfiction directors in post-production / finishing / distribution phase that have, for the most part, micro-budgeted their way through making their films and are continuing to intrepidly DIY it as they move their newly-finished works out into the world.

So without further ado, I'd like to introduce you to filmmaker, M.T. Silvia, and her film, Atomic Mom.  I met M.T. at the Sundance Producers Conference in the summer of 2007, both of us there, basically, to learn at the knee of the top producers and filmmakers in independent film and to just have the opportunity to bask in the Sundance glow.  I remember her telling me about this very special project she was creating about her mother, scientist, Pauline Silvia, and her work as a Navy biologist in the 1950s when the government started nuclear experiments at the Nevada Test Site, where she witnessed, first-hand, five detonations of atomic bombs. 

Through a series of serendipitous events, this also became a personal story of M.T.'s and that of a Japanese woman named Emiko Okada, a Hiroshima survivor who was eight years old when the US dropped an atomic bomb on her city in 1945.  M.T. becomes the physical olive branch and peacemaking conduit between these two extraordinary women and starts to resolve her own issues about the decades-long silence between her and her mother, a profoundly haunted woman.  Having always relied on her brains and scientific acumen to parse out the ways and means of her life, including that of being a single mom in the 50s raising two daughters, decades later, Pauline found herself in a crisis of conscience about the work she did during her military service, including animal testing where dogs were purposely exposed to radiation poisoning and severe skin burns so the scientists could study and log the effects in a laboratory of how quickly it took them to die.

I talked with M.T. on the phone from her home in Oakland, California a couple of weeks ago.  She had just finished up the musical score, was in the midst of writing yet more grants and planning more fundraisers, working on the final touches of the film and brainstorming about her festival and outreach strategies with her production team and various advisers.  As you'll hear, her company moniker, Smartgirl Productions, is quite apt.  She certainly had lots of help along the way from various quarters.  But, as was apparent to me as she told me the story of the creation of her film, her instincts and willingness to "just walk through the door" when extraordinary circumstances presented themselves to move things forward, was what made the difference between capturing some footage of her mother for the family archives (as was her initial intent), and making a feature-length film which took her five years to finish that tells a multi-layered and complex story.

The personal documentary is delicate territory to traverse.  Somehow, the very personal and particular needs to transcend into something universal.  Wanting to document her mother's incredible story was the launch point.  Then, in 2002, M.T. went to the Nevada Test Site and took a tour there.  Being in that place dredged up a lot of the moral complexities of what went on and her mother's involvement there; it was something they had never spoken about.  (M.T. has been a life-long peace activist and war protester, and has even been arrested a time or two in the course of that activism.)  At that point, she knew she wanted to return there with Pauline.  The Atomic Testing Museum had opened in Las Vegas and M.T. asked Pauline if she'd be willing to go there and be interviewed by Mary Palevsky, author of Atomic Fragments: A Daughter's Questions.  Both of Palevsky's parents worked on the Manhattan Project and she was conducting interviews for the Nevada Test Site Oral History Project.  Palevsky was thrilled to meet M.T. and hear about Pauline since, after close to a hundred and fifty interviews, she had yet to talk to a female scientist.

Pauline agreed to talk to Palevsky in 2005 and M.T. filmed that interview.  Pauline really started opening up, especially after meeting, and talking with, some of the other scientists who had worked there, too.  On the way home from that shoot, M.T.'s director of photography, Rick Butler, and her sound engineer, Lauretta Molitor (both dear friends) convinced her that she had to be in the film.  She vehemently refused over and over, but they persevered, going so far as to show up at her house one Sunday morning with equipment in tow.  M.T. sat for a two-hour interview with them and that, ultimately, became the narrative spine of the film.

The confessional aspects of this kind of material can be rife with bathos.  But, Pauline is an extremely stoic woman from a generation that showed absolutely no weakness or anything really personal to, or in front of, their children.  She felt especially vulnerable since she was a single parent and a working mother at a time when that was unusual.  In this film, she just as stoically opens up about her very private spiritual journey and all the things that have been bottled up for so long.  She shares her deep and abiding faith that has stemmed from a practice of daily prayer, something she's been doing since the early 90s.

What the story offers up so beautifully is a portrait of a mother and daughter, polar opposites in many ways, most notably politically and philosophically.  M.T. always struggled with the fact that what happened to Pauline was wrong; her employer, the US military, knowingly put her in physical danger every day and M.T. is convinced that Pauline's many health problems stem from that period of (negligent) exposure.  But, to this day, Pauline doesn't see it that way.  She was a loyal officer, never questioning orders, never doubting her superiors in any way, doing as she was told.  Most of her abounding guilt stems from the fact that she feels that she was the perpetrator of negligence and bad practices by putting young soldiers in danger.  We see one piece of extraordinary archival footage (among many astounding pieces that will make your jaw drop) that shows squads of young men standing out in trenches in the middle of the desert in direct contact with the fallout from the exploding bombs; they have absolutely no protective clothing or protection for their eyes whatsoever, washing off the radioactive dust with soap and water in the latrines afterwards.  Pauline's quiet, but still potent, devastation at those memories make for really compelling, and at times quite uncomfortable, viewing.  But it is so deeply moving because we acknowledge that this woman is willing to share her pain, not only with her daughter privately, but as public testimony in front of a camera, not quite cognizant of the impact these interviews are likely to have on an audience.  It's very brave.

M.T.'s day job is as an audio-video engineer for Pixar.  Working for Pixar is what enabled her to get to Japan where yet another important piece of a larger story took hold.  This is where M.T. takes on the role of a spiritual emissary, or conduit, between her mother and the Japanese family she finds, carrying written letters of love, forgiveness and healing back and forth between the US and Japan.  There is no victimhood on either side; in fact, neither woman, American or Japanese, talks in terms of reparations or anything remotely like that, which in this day and age is rather rare.  (M.T. standing at the Hiroshima memorial, Japan, pictured)

In discussing the structure of the film, M.T. told me that "it was a completely organic process.  The whole film has had a life of its own.  The fact that I ended up in Japan for work sent everything in a whole new direction."  Pixar sent her to Japan for an art exhibit that was opening there.  M.T. had been part of the team that had built a media piece for the exhibit.  She decided to take a couple of extra vacation days while in Tokyo and took the train down to Hiroshima.  In a sort of magical chain of events, three weeks before leaving on this trip, she had emailed the Hiroshima Peace Museum, asking for permission to shoot inside the museum with the idea of juxtaposing the footage between that memorial site and the museum in Nevada. 

The museum put her in touch with Tomoko Nishizaki, a member of the Hiroshima Film Commission who gave M.T. carte blanche to film not only at the museum, but also in the city of Hiroshima itself, waiving any location fees, enabling her to shoot in Peace Park and the city's environs.  Then Nishizaki asked M.T. if she'd like to interview a survivor and, if so, what kind of person did she want to speak with?  This made M.T. feel "uncomfortable and kind of weird," and she'd honestly never considered that possibility before.  Before she left California, she got some interview coaching from some journalist friends, one of whom suggested she find a mother and daughter to talk with and that's how M.T. met Mrs. Okada.  She also met Dr. Hida, a 90-year-old physician, who as a young man, had treated patients directly after the blast.  He took the train from Tokyo to Hiroshima, a three and half hour train ride, to meet this American woman who had come on a peace mission and shared stories and photos with her.  (M.T. and Mrs. Okada walking in Peace Park, pictured) 

And thus began her journeys back and forth carrying paper peace cranes and letters from Mrs. Okada to Pauline and returning with missives from Pauline to Mrs. Okada and Dr. Hida.  Through a series of unfortunate events, the two women never met in person.  After M.T. pushed hard for that for several months, she decided not to force the issue and let it go.  That's ultimately when she decided to "get in the film more, knowing that this was my journey, too--being 'Harriet the Spy' and finding out about my mom and investigating her past, and connecting her with a place of healing."

I asked M.T. about when she might have realized that this was going to be "a film," and not an anecdotal episode of her mom's life for the family archives.  "Actually, I realized it was a film that very first shoot in Nevada when my mom was being interviewed for the oral history archive.  I saw the potential for the bigger story.  I knew it was going to be a years-long endeavor, and since I'd never made a film of this magnitude before, I would have to rely on my instincts and also would have to self-fund it."  (M.T. did make another very low budget film previous to this one in 2001 called Picardy Drive about a neighborhood in East Oakland which aired on KQED in San Francisco.)  She quickly learned a lot about grant writing and received a couple of small grants from the Nevada Humanities and the Rhode Island Humanities (where the Silvias are from, and where Pauline still resides).  The Pacific Pioneer Fund kicked in a bit of money and the rest was raised by holding fundraising house-parties, hosting a special evening with all her musician friends, individual contributors and soliciting donations off her website.  To date, she's spent about $110,000, raising about fifty percent of that.  (M.T. traveling through the city of Hiroshima, pictured)

In terms of the film's transformation into its unique and eloquent structure, M.T. lauds her editor, Jennifer Chinlund, who "really brought out the story in its current incarnation."  In line with the mother/child relationship theme, Chinlund's experience brings an incredibly tragic stroke to this piece.  Ready to head into final edit, M.T. had been wanting to work with Chinlund very badly, but Chinlund remained unavailable for a long time due to commitments on other projects.  Then, three weeks after finally being able to join the project and begin the intense work of narrative story structure, Chinlund's adopted 24-year-old son died unexpectedly the day after returning home from the hospital after knee surgery.  M.T. was certain she was to lose Chinlund again, this time to bottomless grief; instead, the editor dove in to all the footage (about 80 hours' worth) and, somehow, used her own tragedy and pain to tell this mother and child story of M.T. and Pauline.

M.T. has also hired expert strategist for social change initiatives, Lina Srivastava, to work on some goals for pushing it out into the world, and she's busily learning about the marketplace, the educational opportunities and overall festival and exhibition strategy.  She's started her submissions process by hitting all the usual suspects--Sundance, Slamdance, SXSW, Tribeca Film Festival, San Francisco International.  Interestingly, she was invited to début the film at the Global Peace Film Festival in Hiroshima which, of course, would have been phenomenal.  In fact, the festival took place on the evening of our phone conversation (November 20).  "They wanted it even though it wasn't finished.  But I had to decline the invitation and it was a really hard decision to make.  But I knew it would negatively alter my chances on the festival circuit in the States where premieres are still vital for exhibition consideration.  It would have also been hard for me to show it in its current form at such a prestigious festival, so I feel like I made the right decision.  The festival, however, kindly gave me a raincheck." 

Post-production and finishing stages are the most intense time for a film in terms of budget.  M.T. is waiting for one more significant grant to come through.  But whether that money comes in or not, she is determined to finish it this year.  "I'm not willing to go into debt, but, fortunately, I am in a position where I can go into my 401K.  I feel grateful that I have the option to do that."  However, she's still fundraising away and raised $3,000 just from her latest newsletter release.

And how does Pauline feel about the film?  "She's seen all the raw footage along the way and I showed her a fully assembled cut for the first time in September.  It was really, really hard for her to watch.  She got so upset at one part of it, that she really didn't see the ending.  I ended up taking out some things in the versions she reviews that were too upsetting for her [including the photos of Pauline in the lab with the burned animals, something she still weeps over]."  But M.T. feels those photos are important testimony and so she has kept some of them in the final cut.

Needless to say, audiences will experience an intense journey that both mother and daughter embark upon, individually and together.  But, really, the most remarkable journey is that of Pauline, a woman who blindly contributed a life of service to her country for decades and then transformed into a woman with a deep abiding faith, a faith that has challenged her in her mighty struggle with her conscience, with the things she witnessed and participated in, and the reconciliation of the things she did in duty to that service.  She is a much more emancipated woman today, yet as forgiving as she is to everyone and everything, she still struggles with forgiving herself.  In one powerful scene, she says to M.T., "I never would have thought to say 'no' to anything I would be asked to do back then.  'No' would be the first thing out of my mouth if asked to do those things today."

Like the extraordinary Pray the Devil Back to Hell, a film that has deeply impressed M.T., she feels her film, too, represents this theme of women's peacekeeping work.  Pauline and Mrs. Okada are two women looking back at their respective pasts and making peace with what happened fifty years ago.  Says M.T., "It's really about telling the truth and it's about forgiveness and acceptance of difference.  It can only help to support women in the peace movement today.  Peace is possible; forgiveness is possible.  Resolution can happen between a mother and a daughter.  It's also about secrecy--people during the time of the Cold War didn't talk to one another.  It's about revealing the truth behind that secrecy.  . . . The other important component, and the one that's most meaningful to me, and I think to my mom, too, is that there was healing.  In terms of nuclear testing, we're all downwind of this story.  Over 300,000 people have died from the testing of atomic weapons."

M.T. acknowledges that this story could go on forever.  But she is very protective of her mother whose health is very fragile, and as much as she'd like to continue documenting her journey, she also knows this aspect of it is over.  "I'm floored by what she's already given."  (M.T. and Pauline, pictured)

M.T.'s ultimate exhibition goal, festival circuit aside, would be to do a multi-city one-night screening of Atomic Mom (à la The Age of Stupid and Pray the Devil Back to Hell) and play in 450 theaters across the US on Mother's Day.  If the funding doesn't materialize for something along that scale, she is also thinking about streaming it online for free that day and has, in fact, started collecting what she calls "Momisodes," where mothers and daughters film themselves talking about peace.  There is a space on the site for them to upload their stories.

Look for more updates on Atomic Mom in the coming months.

DOX BOX 2010: The Little Nonfiction Festival That Could

Today, DOX BOX festival co-founder and co-director, Orwa Nyrabia, sends word that the 3rd iteration of the Damascus, Syria-based event is ON.  There is a new website and the call for submissions is open.  The festival will take place in Damascus from 3 - 11 March with select films, including the Audience Award-winner, traveling to the nearby cities of Homs and Tartous. 

DOX BOX is organized by Proaction Film, the only independent documentary production company in Syria, in collaboration with international cultural partners.  The festival is under the patronage of the National Film Organization of Syria with local partners, The Tartous Cine-Club and The Homs Cine-Club.  Arab partners are ArteEast, Cinémathèque de Tanger in Morocco, Metropolis Cinema in Beirut and the NAAS Network.  International partners include the European Documentary Network in Denmark and the International Documentary  Film Festival Amsterdam (IDFA) in the Netherlands.

DOX BOX is looking for creative documentaries that have a "unique and organic point of view from filmmakers about their lives, families and societies."  Click here for rules and regs and to download the entry form.  The deadline for entries is the 20th of December 2009.  If you're a North American filmmaker, contact me for a personal recommendation.  Read my coverage from last year's festival here and here and here and here. 

This is a festival in need of endowment and support; they are working miracles with very small budgets and very little in the way of resources.  I'm sure they would welcome any financial help they can get from the international film community. 

The DOX BOX organizers also offer a small Documentary Campus from the 3rd to the 8th and they are calling for applications--six days, ten international tutors, twenty-five participants.  The deadline is 5 January and regulations and application forms can be downloaded here.  For more info, you can send an email query to [email protected].

Missive from UK

Hello from Sheffield, where I'm knee-deep in the hoopla of a very bustling festival and market.  Last night at the big party at the local roller skating rink (fast becoming a Sheffield tradition), the 2010 Cinema Eye Honors announced their nominees for the ceremony that will take place at the Times Center in NYC in January.  Visit the site to read about all the nominees, and the latest and greatest on the best of nonfiction. 

Umbilically connected to New York wherever I happen to go, I wanted to say "hey," and mention a few things coming up: 

I've been part of the "getting butts in seats" brigade, aka Outreach Producer, for Four Seasons Lodge, a beautiful documentary film opening at the IFC Center this coming Wednesday, November 11.  The director, New York Times' journalist, Andrew Jacobs, some of the subjects of the film, and other crew and special guests, will be there for Q&As throughout the week, and some of our best indie film orgs will be on hand to co-host and join in the festivities for after-screening drinks shindigs.  Shooting People will host Friday night, Arts Engine / DocuClub will be with us on Sunday night, and UnionDocs will host on Monday evening.  Visit the website to get all the info you need, watch the trailer, and meet the extraordinary subjects, the last living generation of Holocaust survivors (two of them, pictured above).  Don't let the "H" word keep you away--it's an exceedingly heart-warming, uplifting and life-affirming film.  You can also visit the First Run Features site to keep abreast of where else the film will be opening across the nation.  Next up on December 11, Four Seasons Lodge will run in Los Angeles and Boston.  If you live in those cities, contact me to learn how you can help us get the word out and plan some special events around the screenings there.  The IFC Center puts up showtimes very close to the opening, so keep checking there and buy your tickets in advance.  There are discounts for groups of 10 or more.

Also on the 11th, which is Veteran's Day, The Way We Get By will have its national broadcast début on P.O.V.  The film is now also available for purchase on DVD--probably will become one of the top 10 stocking stuffers of all time, I would wager.

Rooftop Films sends news that their 2010 submissions have opened and they are welcoming entries for their summer series next year.  You can find downloadable information here or submit through Without A Box.  The superb series runs from May to September and will feature more than 200 films in various outdoor screenings throughout New York City.  All genres, formats and lengths are welcome.

On Monday, November 9, The Flaherty has a hot animation program on tap at Anthology Film Archives in the East Village.  "Experiments With Animation" will feature short works by such talents as Phil Solomon, Martha Colburn, Signe Baumane and Jeff Scher.  Go here for more info.

Okay, gotta pull myself back into the fray here.  I will be having lunch shortly with filmmaker Geoffrey Smith, director of the glorious The English Surgeon and co-director of Presumed Guilty which débuted at Toronto in September and is playing the fest here before moving on to CPH:DOX in Copenhagen next week.  It's a tremendous film and it will be fascinating to see the furor it will cause in Mexico where the story is told.  I'll have a full review soon, but watch for this one.  It will be one of the most important films of 2010.

I will have much more from Sheffield in the next couple of weeks, but back to just taking it all in--seeing great nonfiction films and getting to visit and converse with new filmmakers bringing groundbreaking talent and expertise to the field.  It's so awesome to be in the company of thousands of others who are as equally rabid about nonfiction cinema as I am.  Right now, off to Digital Bootcamp with Ingrid Kopp--woo hoo!

If You've Got the Content, We've Got the Airtime (and the Audience)

As Wild West-ish as the independent film community can be about our methods of production, most New York-based media makers, particularly first-timers, will really only register a small amount of distribution and exhibition advice from the guru-of-the-moment, take it as gospel, and try a recipe that might be mildly successful for some, but is far from a panacea for how to find appropriate outlets for original content.  It's not necessary to fork over hundreds of dollars so "an expert" can tell you how to DIY yourself through a mountain of work with, oftentimes, very little in return.  We need only look a bit further and broaden our horizons just a tad to find viable distribution and marketing partnerships that reside, literally, in our backyard. 

In a quiet, but intellectually vibrant, corner of our public television world, exists a potential repository for fresh independently produced fare, especially for short-form fiction and nonfiction.  Last week, I was asked by the New York Film / Video Council (founded in 1946, so they've been around a while) to moderate a panel discussion for its program entitled "Low Cost / No Cost and The City," where we saw some creative work being made by local artists, and discussed ideas about the ever-shifting landscape of exhibition and distribution for said creative work.

The main focus of the evening, hosted at DCTV (and what a generous crew they have there), was how our public broadcasting channels, a long-standing launching place for independents, can present themselves more effectively to artists looking for a place to showcase bold and original media.  Challenged, as are we all, by miniscule budgets, small staffs and limited resources, Rich Siegmeister, WNET Channel 13's Director of Business Development and Institutional Strategy for WNET.org, and one of the creators of Thirteen's independent film series, Reel 13, and WNET Channel 13 Senior Producer, Bob Morris, spoke about new initiatives being implemented to develop several new projects for both local and national distribution of public media.

Keith Boynton and Mike Lavoie, of 12films12weeks, a multi-talented duo that managed a troupe of young actors and crew, to produce twelve narrative films in twelve weeks this past summer, joined the conversation.  Their content resides solely on the Internet, which turned out to be a good place to find a small, but loyal, audience for their short pieces, but admittedly not knowing anything about the current independent distribution landscape or how to market themselves to a wider audience, it remained a fairly circumscribed phenomenon.  How can they advance their agenda in the future (if they so desire) by expounding upon the grassroots audience building they've accomplished thus far?  Or put another way, where can they go from here?

The third party to join the conversation was UnionDocs, a very small collaborative of documentary artists living and working together in a residency program in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, partially funded by the state of New York.  Its founder and director, Christopher Allen, and head of programming, Steve Holmgren, along with current resident artists, Robbie Wilkins and Josh Solondz, presented a taste of what they do and their general ethos in how interdisciplinary nonfiction media can express new ideas and methods of making work.

In bringing together these disparate parties, NYFVC board member and event producer, Ginger Brown, enabled us to have a really productive and exciting conversation where media makers, often without viable major distribution alternatives representing one side of a coin, and smart and experienced broadcasters wanting great content to fill generous slots of airtime and able to provide an audience in the tens of thousands representing the other, could engage in a useful and pertinent discourse about how these two sides could collectively mint some valuable currency so that artists, programmers, broadcasters and audiences can all benefit and keep the flame of independent film alive and well and, somewhat, profitable.

This idea of creative mentorship resides quite strongly in the structure these artists have created, but the consensus seemed to be that there was a desire to broaden their community base and, again, there's Reel 13, there's WNET.org, and the creative producers and programmers there scouring the planet for interesting work.  There is a very small contingent able to find funds to get to festivals far and wide.  Siegmeister says he, distinctly, does not fall into that category of being one of those able to shuttle himself around to festivals.  But by getting out directly into the community the channel serves and engaging in more discussions like this within that community, all parties can only be better served in reaching a common ultimate goal:  bringing hard-to-find strong film and video work to a large audience hungry for discovery and innovative media.

Rich Siegmeister welcomes inquiries from independent artists about submitting content to the channel.  They are looking for short films, 30-minute programs and independent feature films.  You can reach him at [email protected].

Docs Under Duress Panel

Docs Under Duress

Check out the conversation I had last week with filmmakers Laura Poitras, Ross Kauffman, Andrew Berends and Eric Daniel Metzgar at the Royal Flush Fest.  The sound might be kind of low, so use headphones and turn it up!

New York Film / Video Council at DCTV

This Tuesday, October 27, from 6:15 p.m. - 7:45 p.m., I'll be moderating a panel at DCTV called Low Cost / No Cost and The City: an evening of films, discussion and ideas, sponsored by the New York Film / Video Council, one of the monthly programs organized by their volunteer board of directors.  These events are staged specifically for professionals in the New York media community to share information and support one another's work.  Anyone can join the NYFVC for $40 per year, as an individual, and $85 per year for an organization.  A student membership costs $20.  If you're not yet a member, and Tuesday will be the first time you're attending a program, admission is free.

With a diverse and interesting panel of media makers, we'll be talking about how filmmakers can approach a new world of low cost and no cost film production and still churn out strong and challenging work.  WNET Thirteen and Public Broadcasting representatives will speak to the possibility of how the public channel can offer new opportunities to independent narrative and documentary film and video makers.  Samples of work will be shown.

Participants include Christopher Allen, founder and director of UnionDocs, independent producer and new head of programming at UnionDocs, Steve Holmgren, Rich Siegmeister and Bob Morris of WNET Channel 13, and Keith Boynton and Mike Lavoie of 12films12weeks.  DCTV is at 87 Lafayette Street, two blocks below Canal in Tribeca.  Reception will follow.  You can RSVP at 212-330-0450.  Hope you'll join us.

REPORTER Plays at The Paley Center for Media and the Maysles Cinema

New Yorkers will have two opportunities to see Eric Daniel Metzgar's latest nonfiction film before it has its national broadcast on HBO in early 2010. (The Paley screening is, in fact, in association with HBO Documentary Films.)  This Friday, October 23, at 6:30 p.m. Metzgar will be appearing in person with producer Mikaela Beardsley, and author and film subject, New York Times' Pulitzer Prize-winning columnist, Nicholas Kristof, at the Paley Center in midtown as part of its annual DocFest. 

Director Metzgar profiles Kristof as he travels to Congo to turn a spotlight on one of the longest and most brutal of civil wars the continent has ever seen, a conflict that has claimed over 5.4 million lives over the last decade.  In attempting to profile the story in a human-scale way, Metzgar explores how news is disseminated these days and how our consciences can be mobilized (or not) by one person's story.  You can read what I wrote about the film here after seeing it at this year's True / False Fest, and you can read some of Metzgar's thoughts on the Paley website by clicking here.

Then on Saturday, the 24th, up in Harlem, the film will screen at the Cinema at the Maysles Institute at 7:30 p.m. preceded by WITNESS' A Duty to Protect as the cinema continues their "Congo in Harlem" series.  Metzgar will be joined by Mohamed Keita of the Committee to Protect Journalists, journalist, Makeda Crane, Sasha Lezhnev of the ENOUGH Project (they are co-presenting the screening), and Bukeni Waruzi of WITNESS (the other co-presenter).  There will be a series' closing night reception featuring music by Deja Bella.

I hosted a panel yesterday at the Royal Flush Festival ("Skullie" Awards tonight!) in the East Village with Metzgar, Laura Poitras, Ross Kauffman and Andrew Berends.  It was a really fabulous talk and because my fellow juror, Ingrid Kopp of Shooting People, is such a mega-rock star, she recorded it in its entirety, so we'll be able to share the audio file with you soon, both here on SIM and on her own splendid blog, From the Hip.  Don't miss this chance to see Reporter on the big screen and hear the eloquent Metzgar speak of his experiences making it.

Royal Flush Is Coming!

Just a reminder that Royal Flush opens its festival this week in, and around, the East Village of our fair city.  Great program, some really original stuff that you won't see at too many other fests.  Celebrating the artist and the dreamer in all of us would be the main theme I would take away from the current program.  And which one of us couldn't do with a good dose of that now and then?  Here's the program of the films, art happenings and musical performances going on  October 15 - 19.

Also want to plug the panel I'm hosting again since it's chock-full of some of the best filmmakers around these days.  It helps if you're a doc fan, but anyone who loves great cinema will have a swell time participating in a conversation with Ross Kauffman, Laura Poitras, Ian Olds, Eric Daniel Metzgar and Andrew Berends.  That's some heavy talent, so come out and chat with us on Sunday the 18th at 1:30 p.m. - 3:00 p.m. at the Clemente Soto Vélez Cultural Center on Suffolk Street.  It's free with your festival pass or just 5 bucks if you don't have a pass.  But you should get a pass.  Hope to see you there.