globalization

Workingman's Death

Workingman’s Death (Austria/Germany, dir­ector Michael Glawogger): After you see this film, you’ll never com­plain about your job again. Subtitled some­thing like “Five Portraits of Work in the Twenty-First Century,” Glawogger’s doc­u­mentary fea­tures some of the most dan­gerous, dif­fi­cult, or just plain unpleasant work in the world.

Each seg­ment except the last one is about twenty-five minutes long, and is shot without any voi­ceover nar­ra­tion and very little edit­or­i­al­izing. We are simply presented with people working and talking about their work. The dir­ector pos­sesses a very paint­erly sense of com­pos­i­tion, and we’re often presented with shots of workers posing as if they were in front of a still camera. The cam­er­a­work is even more impressive when it is moving, and I often found myself won­dering how they were able to film in some of these conditions.

The seg­ments follow, in order, a group of miners in Ukraine who have dug their own coal shafts, a group of men in Indonesia who col­lect sulfur from an active vol­cano and haul it down the moun­tain­side, butchers at an open-air slaughter­house in Nigeria, men who break apart rusting ships for scrap metal in Pakistan, and steel­workers in China. Although all of these workers are merely sur­viving, the thing that struck me most was how con­tented, even happy, most of them were.

That being said, three of the five seg­ments fea­tured Islamic soci­eties, and I found myself won­dering about the con­nec­tions between the con­di­tions these men were working in and the rise of Islamic rad­ic­alism. Among the ship­breakers in Pakistan, for instance, there was an inter­esting seg­ment which fol­lowed a pho­to­grapher who cir­cu­lated among the men char­ging them a fee to take pic­tures of them holding an assault rifle. There was no voi­ceover, but I got the impres­sion that these men wanted to be seen as revolu­tion­aries instead of just sub­sist­ence scrap workers.

The most intense seg­ment had to be among the butchers, and there was quite a lot of blood and gore evident as we watched the men work. But strangely, I found this a more honest approach to the pro­duc­tion of food than I saw in the factory farms in We Feed The World. These butchers are “hands-on,” literally.

The final seg­ment, filmed among steel­workers in China, was the shortest, and the least inter­esting, but the dir­ector was trying to end with the optimism of the Chinese workers for the steel industry, which he con­trasts with shots of a defunct steel mill in Germany that’s been turned into an art install­a­tion. His point was slightly unclear, but overall, his unflinching eye for detail, even in some har­rowing work envir­on­ments, makes this doc­u­mentary a must-see.

9/10(9/10)

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We Feed The World

We Feed The World (Austria, dir­ector Erwin Wagenhofer): I would call this film a Mondovino for food. By which I mean it is an exam­in­a­tion of how glob­al­iz­a­tion and the growth of the power of cor­por­a­tions has affected the pro­duc­tion of food. The dir­ector dis­pas­sion­ately takes us to farms in Romania and Brazil, a fishing boat in Brittany, a green­house in southern Spain, and a chicken pro­cessing plant in Austria.

In all these places, we see tra­di­tional prac­tices being aban­doned in favour of giant factory oper­a­tions. In each place, someone on camera asserts that fla­vour is not as important as price or appear­ance. So we see hot­house toma­toes being driven 2500 kilo­metres to be sold, we see rain­forest cleared to grow soy­beans, even though the soil is unsuit­able, and we see the entire eight-week life cycle of thou­sands of chickens, raised to supply the incessant demands of the world for cheap food. Watching factory-farmed chickens being “pro­cessed” might be enough to turn some people into veget­arians. Except for the fact that our veget­ables are really no better.

There is some inter­esting inform­a­tion about GM (genet­ic­ally mod­i­fied) crops which are res­istant to herb­i­cides like Monsanto’s Roundup and the growing use of hybrid seed. Unlike reg­ular seed, which farmers used to save from year to year, hybrid seed cannot be used to raise a second crop, for­cing farmers to keep buying seed from large seed firms like Pioneer. This raises all kinds of issues, and I really think the film could have spent more time here.

The film ends with an inter­view with the CEO of Nestlé, the largest food man­u­fac­turer in the world, who muses on “attaching a value” to water, and calls the pos­i­tion of the NGOs, that access to clean water is a human right, “extreme”. After brag­ging how many jobs his cor­por­a­tion is cre­ating, and how many fam­ilies it is sup­porting, he glances at an inform­a­tional video of one of Nestlé’s Japanese factories, and mar­vels how it is so roboti­cized. “Hardly any people,” he crows.

The only sig­ni­ficant weak­ness to this doc­u­mentary was its unre­lenting gloom. I would have liked to have been given some ammuni­tion or to have seen some suc­cess stories, or at least some rebel­lion. But there wasn’t any. Since I have an interest in this area, I can point you to the Slow Food organ­iz­a­tion, which is trying to encourage more con­sump­tion of local products and the pre­ser­va­tion of dis­ap­pearing food­stuffs. But I really wish the dir­ector had done it instead.

8/10(8/10)

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A Decent Factory

A Decent Factory (Finland/France, 2004, Director: Thomas Balmès, 79 minutes): In this doc­u­mentary, Finnish cell­phone giant Nokia sends its recently hired Ethics and Environmental Specialist to China to audit one of its sup­pliers’ factories. But instead of a mani­festo on the dangers of out­sourcing and glob­al­iz­a­tion, we get a much smaller film about cul­tural dif­fer­ences. Well, it’s not exactly that simple, either. I guess this one just didn’t catch fire for me the way I thought it would. Sure, the Finns find labour law viol­a­tions. But in the pres­ence of the factory’s European man­age­ment, they tend to focus on small things (some chem­icals are stored near the toi­lets) and gloss over the bigger issues (not a single employee at the factory has signed a con­tract). The truth is that the entire Chinese man­u­fac­turing sector oper­ates by very dif­ferent rules than the Europeans are used to. I looked for­ward to hearing the aud­itors inter­view the mostly-female employees of the factory, but when they do, they dis­cover the sort of com­plaints made by factory workers every­where: their super­iors insult them, the cafet­eria food is bad. The truth is that none of them actu­ally com­plain about the low wages, or the forced over­time or man­datory deduc­tions for food and acco­mod­a­tion. It seems like they are con­tent to live in single-sex com­pany dorm­it­ories. Things that seem to hor­rify the pro­gressive Finns don’t seem to faze most of the Chinese.

So, at least by focus­sing in so tightly on one factory, I think it’s impossible to look at the bigger issues involved in glob­al­iz­a­tion and the migra­tion of jobs over­seas. Many of the issues seem to involve more than just eco­nomics. There is a lot of cul­tural dis­con­nec­tion going on as well.

That’s not to say I’m an apo­lo­gist for unfair labour prac­tices. There are wide­spread prob­lems with almost all of China’s factories, hinted at by the film. Most factories keep at least two sets of books; one to show the gov­ern­ment and aud­itors like Nokia’s, and one more accurate set. And the issue of gov­ern­ment cor­rup­tion is not even mentioned.

So, even though the film failed to address these issues in a larger con­text, it was still an enlight­ening visit to a place where most of the world’s man­u­fac­turing will be done in the future, if it’s not already being done there now.

7/10(7/10)

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Mondovino

Mondovino (USA/France, dir­ector Jonathan Nossiter): Since I work in the wine busi­ness, I had been quite eager to see this doc­u­mentary, and I wasn’t dis­ap­pointed. Reportedly drawn from over 500 hours of footage, the good news is that Nossiter will be releasing not only a the­at­rical cut, but a ten-part, ten hour series of the film on DVD by next Christmas (ThinkFilm is dis­trib­uting it). The bad news is that it’s still a bit of an unwieldy beast. When it was shown in Cannes, it was close to three hours long. For Toronto, he’s cut about half an hour but it still clocked in at 135 minutes. Now, for me, that’s fine. I love wine and I love hearing about the con­tro­ver­sies raging in my busi­ness. But not everyone wants that much.

Nossiter flits around the globe, from Brazil to France to California to Italy to Argentina, talking to wine­makers and PR people and con­sult­ants and critics about the state of the wine world. The theme that emerges is that glob­al­iz­a­tion and the undue influ­ence of wine critic Robert Parker are for­cing a kind of same­ness on wine. Small local pro­du­cers are either being bought up by larger con­glom­er­ates (American as well as local), or are being pres­sured by market forces to change their wines to suit the palate of Mr. Parker, who dic­tates taste to most of the American (and world) markets.

Mondovino

It’s a com­plic­ated sub­ject, and I can under­stand why Nossiter wants to let his sub­jects talk. There is Robert Mondavi, pat­ri­arch of the Napa wine industry, and his sons Tim and Michael, whose efforts to buy land in Languedoc faced oppos­i­tion from local vign­erons and gov­ern­ment offi­cials. There is Aimé Guibert, founder and wine­maker of Daumas Gassac, icon­o­clastic opponent of Mondavi’s plans and cru­sader for wines that express local terroir. There is Robert Parker him­self, expressing some dis­com­fort with his influ­ence while refusing to stop writing about the wines that he favours. There is “flying wine­maker” Michel Rolland, con­sultant for dozens of wineries all over the world, advising them how to make Parker-friendly wines. There are many many more fas­cin­ating per­son­al­ities in this documentary.

If you are a wine lover, you will want to seek out the ten-part series as well as the the­at­rical ver­sion of this film. But even if you’re not into wine, the film is an inter­esting look at how the forces of glob­al­iz­a­tion are chan­ging many of the world’s oldest and most estab­lished tra­di­tions. The effects on local cul­tures and eco­nomies cannot be ignored.

8/10(8/10)

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Hot Docs is a doc­u­mentary film fest­ival here in Toronto now in its 11th year. This year, I finally decided to see some films. It’s a huge con­trast to the massive, glitzy, and celebrity-obsessed Toronto International Film Festival that I’ve been attending for the past ten years. Lineups are more man­age­able, for one. And nobody’s looking for stars all over town. In other words, it’s great.

I saw four films this weekend:

  • Slasher (US, Director: John Landis) — This film fol­lows Michael “Slasher” Bennett, a sort of used-car super­salesman who’s brought in to strug­gling deal­er­ships to “slash” prices in spe­cial weekend sales. He boasts of selling 200 cars once in four days. He brings in his DJ pal, as well as a “mer­cenary” salesman just to turn up the heat on the dealership’s guys. He hires pretty girls to “register” cus­tomers to win prizes, including an $88 car. His legendary skills only go so far in eco­nom­ic­ally depressed Memphis, where his cru­sade only man­ages to sell 35 cars on Memorial Day weekend. This was enjoy­able, but bogged down when the sale started to turn sour. (7/10)
  • The Take (Canada/Argentina, Director: Avi Lewis) — Directed and written by Canada’s royal couple of the left, Avi Lewis and Naomi Klein (author of the best­selling No Logo), The Take is a fas­cin­ating look at what hap­pens when the unem­ployed decide to take mat­ters into their own hands. After Argentina’s spec­tac­ular eco­nomic col­lapse in 2001, many factories simply locked their doors and fired their workers. Rather than see the bank­rupt busi­nesses sell off all the equip­ment for pen­nies on the dollar, the workers have begun reclaiming the factories, first occupying them and then restarting pro­duc­tion, without the bosses. Lewis and Klein made the film after their anti-globalization mes­sage met with the ques­tion: “What would you replace glob­al­ized cap­it­alism with?” Though the film doesn’t attempt to por­tray the “occu­pied factory” move­ment as the answer for every situ­ation, it raises inter­esting ques­tions in an emo­tion­ally enga­ging way. (10/10)
  • The Ritchie Boys (Germany/Canada, Director: Christian Bauer) — This film tells the story of a group of Jewish refugees who enlisted in the US Army during WWII and were recruited for a spe­cial intel­li­gence unit and sent back to Nazi Germany, where they worked mostly as inter­rog­ators of POWs. Their story makes for a fas­cin­ating and moving film. Surprisingly, it’s also full of humour and fond memories. (10/10)
  • Super Size Me (US, Director: Morgan Spurlock) — I’d wanted to see this since I’d heard about it at SXSW, where it was screened in March. Director Morgan Spurlock, inspired by a court case involving two obese teens who attempted to sue McDonald’s for their health prob­lems, decides to live for a month on nothing but McDonald’s food. He inter­sperses footage of his daily “meals” with inter­views with health care pro­fes­sionals, lob­by­ists for the food industry, edu­cators, even a former Surgeon General. The film has been cri­ti­cized by some as a bit of a stunt. Of course, eating fast food for thirty days isn’t going to be good for you. (Boy, see the film and you’ll see how much of an under­state­ment that is!). But Spurlock uses his stunt as a way to raise some good ques­tions about per­sonal as well as cor­porate respons­ib­ility. This film makes a good com­panion piece to Eric Schlosser’s excel­lent book Fast Food Nation. A har­rowing, and yet enter­taining, exper­i­ence. And it’s opening the­at­ric­ally on May 7. Check out the film’s web site, too. (10/10)

So, a great start. I’ve got six more films to see in the next week, plus a few more to choose. I’ll try to say some­thing about each one.

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