April 2010

Gasland

Gasland (Director: Josh Fox): When dir­ector Josh Fox receives a letter from a gas com­pany offering him $100,000 to drill on his prop­erty, he’s sorely tempted. Until he starts hearing stories about com­bust­ible tap water and unex­plained health prob­lems from others who have allowed the nat­ural gas industry to exploit their land. Setting out on a per­sonal quest to find answers, Fox travels from his home in rural Pennsylvania to Colorado, New Mexico, Texas and Louisiana to see the res­ults in places where this sort of drilling, called hydraulic frac­turing (or “fracking”) has been going on for years.

The nat­ural gas industry is, pardon the pun, on fire. Touting a vir­tual ocean of nat­ural gas under US soil, gas com­panies have been aggress­ively drilling wells in order to exploit this energy source as quickly and as prof­it­ably as pos­sible. In a bid to become inde­pendent of for­eign oil, politi­cians have acqui­esced to the industry’s lob­by­ists at almost every step. The Energy Policy Act of 2005, pro­posed by then-Vice President Cheney, exempted the oil and gas industry from numerous pieces of envir­on­mental legis­la­tion including the Clean Air Act and the Clean Water Act. Since that time, fracking has pro­ceeded vir­tu­ally unreg­u­lated, and Fox’s travelogue shows just how ubi­quitous nat­ural gas wells have become.

Despite admit­ting to being the son of lib­eral hippie par­ents, Fox is smart enough not to come across as a spoiled rich kid from the East coast. His con­fes­sional style and banjo playing endear him to both the audi­ence and to the people he visits in the film. These people, for the most part, are average rural Americans, solid Republicans who likely voted in the very same people who gave cor­por­a­tions the right to drill on their land. I’d dearly love to show this film to some of the cur­rent Tea Party act­iv­ists who are cam­paigning for even less gov­ern­ment in their lives. Why aren’t those people pick­eting out­side the offices of EnCana or Chesapeake Energy?

Fox does a good job of explaining the pro­cess of fracking in layman’s terms and per­haps the most shocking thing about the pro­cess is just how much water it uses. Each well drilled con­sumes 1–7 mil­lion gal­lons of fresh water, which is mixed with chem­icals and injected into the earth’s crust to free up the gas. We’re lit­er­ally sac­ri­fi­cing one scarce com­modity to obtain another. To make mat­ters worse (or better, depending on your per­spective), when the res­id­ents’ drinking water is con­tam­in­ated, they’re forced to buy water from some­where else. Privatization of resources is a capitalist’s dream come true, unless of course you actu­ally live in any of these places. And as the film’s graphics show, a huge por­tion of the United States is either being drilled now or will be in the near future. The gas com­panies began in the sparsely-populated western states, but are now moving east. Fox’s home is in an area of the Delaware River basin that provides fresh water to New York City, and drilling may jeop­ardize the water supply of more than 15 mil­lion people.

And even if you’re lucky enough not to live close to a drilling oper­a­tion, some of these con­tam­in­ants have now entered the food supply, as one rancher sadly relates. Farms and ranches depend on water to irrigate their crops and feed their animals, and even if the humans can afford to pur­chase clean water for them­selves, they often can’t afford enough to take care of the needs of their busi­nesses. So we’re all at risk. Even sadder was the rev­el­a­tion that the Bush gov­ern­ment approved drilling on public land. So now even a visit to land under the “pro­tec­tion” of the Bureau of Land Management is likely to be spoiled by unsightly gas wells at best, and pol­luted air, soil, and water at worst.

Luckily, the film strikes just the right tone, and there is enough humour and banjo music to avoid making this a com­pletely depressing exper­i­ence. But Gasland still delivers an urgent mes­sage, and it’s one that we ignore at our own peril.

Official site of the film

8/10(8/10)

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Thieves By Law

Thieves By Law (Director: Alexander Gentelev): I’ve been reading Misha Glenny’s excel­lent survey of the world of organ­ized crime, McMafia: A Journey Through the Global Underworld, so the sub­ject of this film inter­ested me. An exposé of the inner work­ings of the Russian “mafia” as told by three allegedly “former” gang­sters, Thieves By Law wasn’t quite as shocking as it might be to someone com­pletely unfa­miliar with this world, but the level of access gained by dir­ector Gentelev is impressive.

We’re first intro­duced to Leonid “Macintosh” Bilunov, living in a man­sion in the south of France. He’s cul­tured and rather charming, even as he recounts his own violent prison stories. Alimzhan Tokhtakhounov, nick­named Taiwanchik (“the Taiwanese”) is an Uzbek who was charged in the scandal sur­rounding the 2002 Olympic figure skating com­pet­i­tion. It was Tokhtakhounov who was alleged to have bribed the French judge to score the Russian skaters higher than the Canadians. Most fear­some of all is Vitaly Dyemochka (“Bondar”), a cold-eyed gang leader who has spent nearly half his life in prison. Despite their will­ing­ness to talk, one gets the dis­tinct impres­sion that they have done many more bad things than they’ll admit to.

What they do reveal is just how quickly the under­world rose to power as the Soviet state appar­atus was col­lapsing in the late 1980s. The vacuum in polit­ical and eco­nomic power was quickly filled by the crim­inal gangs, who had never played by Soviet rules. Instead, their “Thieves’ Code” had flour­ished since Stalin’s time, allowing them to vir­tu­ally con­trol the prisons in which they were held. In the lean Soviet years, this code seemed almost ascetic. No wives or chil­dren allowed, no registered addresses, no working within society, no betraying other crim­inals. When these gangs were turned loose upon a newly “free” Russia, though, their code quickly broke down. Each group began run­ning extor­tion and pro­tec­tion rackets, tar­geting the thou­sands of new busi­nesses that sprung up overnight. Many of Russia’s richest men suc­ceeded by grabbing state assets cheaply, and the gangs latched on like para­sites. This is where the concept of the krisha (“roof”) was estab­lished. A crim­inal organ­iz­a­tion would “offer” their ser­vices as a krisha to pro­tect the busi­ness from other crim­inals (and often the police) for a price. The police at this time became just as cor­rupt, with the addi­tional power that went with the threat of legal action against the businesses.

The long rot of the Soviet state meant that in the public’s eyes, crim­inals had a better repu­ta­tion than the police anyway, so it wasn’t dif­fi­cult for the crim­inal gangs to operate and recruit. While the Thieves’ Code was in effect, gangs would often meet up to arbit­rate dis­putes in an almost gen­tle­manly fashion, but from 1994–2000, a brutal civil war took place among the gangs, who were each fighting for supremacy. This feeding frenzy essen­tially left the Code in tat­ters, as greed took over.

As the gangs them­selves grew richer and more business-savvy, they wanted to get into busi­ness them­selves, so they often demanded part­ner­ships with the busi­nessmen they were pre­vi­ously extorting. In this way, our prot­ag­on­ists ostens­ibly went legit, although there were never really any clean hands in the Russian busi­ness world. They also needed places to launder their new­found wealth, so many took advantage of Israel’s gen­erous immig­ra­tion policies and lack of fin­an­cial reg­u­la­tions. If a gang­ster wasn’t Jewish, he would simply marry a Jewish woman in order to gain an Israeli pass­port. In this period, the gangs stopped killing each other and started killing more busi­nessmen, in order to take over their enter­prises. With crim­inal organ­iz­a­tions now in con­trol of many legal busi­nesses in Russia (among them con­struc­tion, banking and real estate), it’s dif­fi­cult to tell the good guys from the bad. And glob­al­iz­a­tion has allowed these guys to extend their reach right around the world, which Glenny’s book recounts in agon­izing detail.

Although Thieves By Law is tre­mend­ously inform­ative, and the char­ac­ters are suit­ably chilling, it’s shot very much in a tele­vi­sion doc­u­mentary style. It packs a lot of inform­a­tion into its run­ning time, but it’s not par­tic­u­larly filmic. In an ironic twist, the cold-eyed Vitaly now spends his time writing and dir­ecting gang­ster films in Russia. He admon­ishes his actors by telling them, “this isn’t just a story, this really happened!” Maybe Gentelev should have brought him aboard to film some “re-enactments.”

7/10(7/10)

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Marwencol

Marwencol (Director: Jeff Malmberg): In April 2000, Mark Hogancamp was attacked out­side his local bar by a group of five men who beat him so viciously that he was left in a coma for nine days. The damage to his brain was so severe that most of his memories were lost, and he had to re-learn simple things like how to walk and feed him­self. After 40 days in hos­pital, his bene­fits ran out and he was unce­re­mo­ni­ously released to con­tinue his recovery on his own. Discovering his own journals, Mark real­ized that before the attack, he had been a fairly gifted artist. But he had also been a self-loathing alco­holic who had trouble keeping jobs and girl­friends. Remarkably, his desire for alcohol com­pletely van­ished while his fer­tile ima­gin­a­tion did not, and he began working on a pro­ject to help develop his fine motor skills and to come to terms with the viol­ence he suffered.

Marwencol is the name of a fic­ti­tious World War 2-era Belgian vil­lage which Mark builds at 1/6 scale in his back­yard. Populating the finely-detailed build­ings with dolls based on his friends and family, he also cre­ates storylines that he acts out and pho­to­graphs for his own enter­tain­ment. The story begins when Mark’s alter-ego, an air-force Captain who crash lands his fighter jet nearby, dis­covers the vil­lage when it is pop­u­lated only by beau­tiful women. He quickly estab­lishes him­self as the owner of a bar, and hires the women to per­form staged “cat­fights” for the enter­tain­ment of any passing sol­diers. Soon, the vil­lage has a more stable pop­u­la­tion of char­ac­ters, including friendly German sol­diers. Hogancamp has estab­lished rules that nobody can con­tinue hos­til­ities in Marwencol, so it becomes a place where even sol­diers from opposing armies can become friends. Everyone plays by these rules, with the excep­tion of the evil SS, who are always plot­ting to take over the town and kill the inhabitants.

Hogancamp is fully aware that his fantasy world is just that, and yet he uses it to work out his own post-traumatic stress dis­order, with its con­fusing blend of fear and anger. It’s a world where he’s a hero, where women love him and where he can fight off evil with the help of the entire pop­u­la­tion of Marwencol. When his pho­to­graphy comes to the atten­tion of the art world, though, the chal­lenges for Mark become more real. Can he use the con­fid­ence he’s gained in Marwencol to rein­teg­rate into the real world, even the fright­ening world of the New York City art scene?

Director Malmberg has cre­ated an intimate and enorm­ously sym­path­etic por­trait of a remark­able man. Though he res­ists being called an artist in any way, Hogancamp’s photos are striking, and what appeals to his art world admirers is the com­plete lack of irony in these “doll scenes.” Though his attackers took most of his memories, they cannot take his ima­gin­a­tion, and that turns out to be his greatest strength. A bril­liantly edited sequence late in the film com­pares the rel­at­ively benign inva­sion of his pri­vacy by the art world to a plot by the SS to infilt­rate Marwencol and take Captain Hogancamp hostage. It’s clear that he’s really reliving and trying to work through the ori­ginal attack, but it’s also pretty obvious that the rest of world will always be a scary place to him. This isn’t a film about regaining everything that was lost in a tragedy; rather, it’s about how ima­gin­a­tion can sus­tain us and create a new life that just might be better than the one we had before.

Official site of the film/project, where you can buy story­books of Mark’s photos to help sup­port him.

9/10(9/10)

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Survivors

by James McNally on April 30, 2010

in DVD Clubs,Television

Survivors: Complete Seasons One & Two

In what is likely to be the only piece of non–Hot Docs–related news for the next little while, I’m happy to announce that BBC America/BBC Canada this week released Seasons (or more accur­ately, Series) 1 and 2 of Adrian Hodges’ post-apocalyptic drama Survivors. I became hooked on this show more than a year ago, and up until now had to resort to some rather dubious means in order to keep up with it. Based on the ori­ginal 70s series cre­ated by Terry Nation (although Hodges calls it more of a re-imagining), Survivors fol­lows a small group of people who sur­vive a cata­strophic virus that wipes out 99% of the world’s pop­u­la­tion in a matter of a few days. The storyline has lots of twists and turns, but the best part for me is just seeing how people might sur­vive when all of their creature com­forts are sud­denly taken away. Who is best-equipped to sur­vive in a world like that? Since the series is based in the UK, at least everyone isn’t going around with auto­matic weapons, so the threat of viol­ence, though ever-present, doesn’t erupt into ludicrous fire­fights every episode.

I’ll have to say that the writing starts to wobble a bit in Series 2, espe­cially when it’s obvious that the pro­du­cers are reluctant to kill off any of their char­ac­ters. But Survivors is hugely enjoy­able, and may even have you thinking about how you might endure if/when everything even­tu­ally goes pear-shaped.

Survivors: The Complete Original Series

The ori­ginal series has also been released. All 38 epis­odes from 1975–1977 are included, as well as the fea­tur­ette “The Cult of Survivors”. Although the fash­ions haven’t aged kindly, the stories hold up remark­ably well, and you can see how the newer show has changed some of the ori­ginal char­ac­ters. As you can see from the extensive Wikipedia entry, this series has attained cult status and for fans of the show, this is likely to be the bigger prize.

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Strange Powers: Stephin Merritt and the Magnetic Fields

Strange Powers: Stephin Merritt and the Magnetic Fields (Directors: Kerthy Fix and Gail O’Hara): Very early in the film, a title card informs us that “To some, [The Magnetic Fields] are an iconic band. To most, they are com­pletely unknown.” I’m not quite sure why the film­makers feel the need to inform us of this banality, which is true of just about every band, but this film isn’t likely to change any­thing about that equation.

For the record, I happen to like The Magnetic Fields very much, and I think Stephin Merritt is a prodi­giously gifted song­writer. However, my ini­tial sus­pi­cion that he and the band wouldn’t make for a very inter­esting doc­u­mentary turned out to be true. Despite some very nice per­form­ance footage, the film doesn’t really add any­thing to the band’s music. Merritt him­self con­stantly seems slightly baffled why anyone would want to make a film about him. Intensely private and per­ceived as some­what of a cur­mudgeon, he mumbles so often that the film­makers are reduced to providing sub­titles for much of his dia­logue. His long­time col­lab­or­ator Claudia Gonson is chat­tier and more candid and it is of some interest to hear her side of the band’s story, but even she admits that she and the other band mem­bers exist to per­form Stephin’s songs. While we see a small part of their working rela­tion­ship (where they bicker like an old mar­ried couple), most of the actual song­writing comes from Merritt’s long days or nights spent “with a drink and a cigar­ette” in one of the local gay bars.

The film was reportedly shot over ten years, but we never really know exactly where we are in that timeline. The band’s his­tory goes back to the 80s, when Gonson and Merritt met, but their greatest suc­cess came with the 1999 release of the monu­mental 69 Love Songs pro­ject, which is when I became a fan. There is footage shot during the recording of their 2008 album Distortion but everyone seems to be aware that their moment of fame has passed. Not that that bothers Merritt in the slightest. He seems con­tent to con­tinue writing songs, although the film does chron­icle his sudden decision to move to Los Angeles from New York to try to get work writing film soundtracks. The film­makers seem to have missed the dis­cus­sions and thinking that led to that decision, though, so a poten­tially inter­esting storyline is reduced to a title card.

The one moment of poten­tial drama comes around the one-hour mark, when Merritt is accused by some music journ­al­ists and blog­gers of being a racist. Their reas­oning? That he doesn’t like hip-hop, that he admits to liking the song “Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah” from the racist Disney car­toon Song of the South, and that he didn’t have enough black music on his list of the top songs of the 20th cen­tury, pub­lished while he was writing for Time Out New York magazine. This ludicrous episode simply blows over, though, and like Merritt’s mumbly mono­tone, the film returns to its oth­er­wise flat chronicling.

It’s hard to fault the film­makers. They are obvi­ously fans who want to share their enthu­siasm for The Magnetic Fields’ music with others. But even with talking head endorse­ments of the band from Peter Gabriel, Sarah Silverman, Carrie Brownstein (from the band Sleater-Kinney), and author Lemony Snicket (Daniel Handler), the film will have a dif­fi­cult time reaching anyone who’s not already a fan.

Official site of the film

6/10(6/10)

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