venezuela

Charles Gervais

Charles Gervais is the dir­ector of ¿¡Revolución!?, which exam­ines the prin­ciples of polit­ical revolu­tion through what’s hap­pening today in Hugo Chavez’s Venezuela. I spoke to Charles at this year’s Hot Docs. The film opens in Toronto on Friday May 25th, at the Royal Cinema. If you’re at all inter­ested in what’s going on in Latin America these days, you should def­in­itely see this film. Check out the web site here.

James McNally (JM): I saw a film a few years ago called The Revolution Will Not Be Televised (TSS Review). Have you seen it? Was it some­thing you were aware of before you made the film?

Charles Gervais (CG): In fact, when the pro­ject started, when I read this art­icle in the news­paper saying that Chavez would dis­tribute a mil­lion Don Quixote books, I tried to get the most inform­a­tion I could have on Chavez and Venezuela, because I was familiar with the Latin American situ­ation, but not so much about Venezuela and Chavez, but I found this movie and I man­aged to watch it one hour before taking the plane.

JM: That was a huge eye opener because of the way the media presents Venzezuela here and what was going on. That film cap­tured a move­ment, it was there for all the his­tor­ical events, and yours is very dif­ferent, it’s struc­tured dif­fer­ently. Did you impose the struc­ture on the film or did you let it come out of the film?

CG: Well, after two times in Caracas, I under­stood that my judge­ment, my opinion on the revolu­tion was chan­ging, so I reflected on a struc­ture that could sur­vive whatever path the revolu­tion would take. So I thought about a fic­tion­al­ized nar­rator which had the voice of some Latin old guer­riero, I don’t know, I don’t define it really.

JM: Sort of a Don Quixote?

CG: Yeah, sort of a Don Quixote, Cervantes, guer­ri­eros, maybe the phantom of Bolivar or Che Guevara, and this person is presenting his ideal revolu­tion, so it’s not the Chavez one, but it’s…

JM: The theory.

CG: This is the theory, and also maybe because I found the pro­ject really fas­cin­ated me, really charmed me, but I was afraid that it would go out of con­trol, so I said well maybe I’ll do my part in order to help keep the pro­cess moving in the right dir­ec­tion (laughs). I’d be happy if Chavez could listen to the movie, in fact I’ve sent it to him.

JM: Did you take the titles of each sec­tion from one par­tic­ular source?

CG: No, this was really invented. I’ve read lots about dif­ferent revolu­tions, some inspired in part by this Venezuelan revolu­tion. But I wanted to make sure that these guidelines would be cor­rect for the audi­ence, but also for scholars, so I val­id­ated all these steps with spe­cial­ists of revolu­tion theories.

JM: I enjoyed the tie-in with the American revolu­tion and the French revolu­tion, it’s all the same principles.

CG: In fact, one of my experts is doing a degree thesis in Peace and Conflict Studies at the University of Toronto. Her name is Marieve de Rosier. And she’s doing her thesis on revolu­tion theory, and she was amazed, “Wow, I read books of 400 pages and this is a great sum­mary” so she helped me also to cor­rect some parts and make sure it was credible.

JM: So when did the struc­ture emerge?

CG: The struc­ture was there while researching but before shooting. It was dif­fi­cult because my struc­ture was a bit rigid, I needed stories to illus­trate every theme, which was a bit difficult.

JM: How much time did you spend in Venezuela, and how many times did you have to go back and forth?

CG: I’ve been back and forth six times in a year and a half. The first time I went to see the dis­tri­bu­tion of the Don Quixote book was just seven days, I put it on my account. I shot the event and I made a five-minute demo film which helped me to start the movie. But other times I’d stay five weeks, a month and a half. In total about three or four months. I’ve also lived for more than a year in Latin America, so I’m really close to their Latin passion.

JM: And you speak Spanish? So you didn’t have to use translators?

CG: It wouldn’t be pos­sible to use trans­lators in Venezuela, because the society is so divided that if you asso­ciate your­self with someone, you will be in one clan or another. You would be asso­ci­ated with either Chavez or the oppos­i­tion, so you’re done, you cannot talk to the other side. I was just on my own, and I was working hard to pro­tect my “observer” status.

JM: Did you get to meet with Chavez?

CG: Personally, I would have loved to, but it would have been more for per­sonal interest than for the doc­u­mentary, because the film is based more on the actors of the revolu­tion, and also Chavez, but in rela­tion to the people.

JM: There’s another film showing at Hot Docs called Orange Revolution (TSS Review), which is an inter­esting film to com­pare because that film ends up being less about the politi­cians and more about the people, and I think this is what your film is trying to accom­plish, seeing whether the people will keep the principles.

CG: Yes, I def­in­itely want to see that film.

JM: Did you have any prob­lems get­ting people to talk freely in the film? Did anyone try to stop you from filming or approaching cer­tain people?

CG: No, liberty of the press is total. I could enter the air­port at Caracas with 12 packs of equip­ment, and cus­toms was just, “Hi.”

JM: Do you think it was because you were Canadian?

CG: No, no. It’s just that they are not shy about any­thing going on right now. It might change in the years to come, but right now, they think that the more the press will come, the more they will look good. They think that what they are doing is good, they don’t have any­thing to hide, they say just come and shoot. Even Chavez and the people close to power say go ahead, shoot every event, you want to shoot in the barrio, go ahead. And they knew I was talking to oppos­i­tion leaders and they didn’t care.

JM: How did you find the people you fea­ture in the film, the street vendors, the woman from the barrio?

CG: It was really sort of invest­ig­a­tion work. When I first arrived in Caracas, the only con­tact I had was a journ­alist from the national radio sta­tion, a friend of a friend told me go see this person. This person wasn’t there but they told me I could see her assistant, and this person finally opened lots of door. But the street vendor, and the girl, was just from walking around. I was living in a poor neigh­bour­hood and talking to everyone, having cof­fees, and the girl [from the barrio] I met her in a Youth Forum that was held before the World Forum.

JM: What about the politi­cian, during the elec­tion, the woman who was going around with her posters?

CG: With her it was more through the first con­tact at the national radio. And I’ve done a lot of inter­views for the national broad­casters, so they knew me. My objective was to be known by everyone in power. They knew that there was a Canadian team doing a doc­u­mentary, that it was ser­ious, that I would keep coming back, that it was big. At the end, everyone knew that I was doing some­thing. Even the guard of Chavez knew that we existed.

JM: The oppos­i­tion leader, Marta, seemed the most anti-Chavez. But at the end you find out that she had been working for him, you feel that the oppos­i­tion doesn’t seem very well-organized. I know that in 2002, at the time of the coup, they seemed very powerful. What’s happened since then?

CG: They have made so many attempts to kick out Chavez, with this coup, also they cut oil pro­duc­tion for two months, they’ve also tried to seize one public place for I don’t know how many months, so they’ve tried so many times to kick Chavez out and it hasn’t worked. And the ref­er­endum [which they lost]. After that it’s kind of col­lapsed. It’s really really dis­or­gan­ized, and there’s kind of a resig­na­tion, let’s just wait until he goes.

JM: Chavez talks a lot about the Americans, hinting that they’re going to invade the country. Do you think that’s just rhet­oric to try to get people to sup­port him?

CG: I think it’s a classic way to get your base of sup­port tight and active. While listening to his speech, there’s only a small extract of his speech in the movie, but it’s always four or five hours long. Every ten minutes or so I would notice that he would bring back the enemies, and people would start clap­ping their hands, without noti­cing why they’re all happy at this moment. But they’re happy because he’s men­tioning the enemies. You can see how important it is to always remind them that there’s an enemy threat­ening them. It keeps the base of sup­port active.

JM: At the same time, he’s made some friends in other coun­tries (like Iran) that are maybe not so smart? How do people feel about some of the decisions he’s made?

CG: His base of sup­port are not that edu­cated to judge who Ahmadinejad is, or even Fidel Castro. They’ve never been there, they don’t know. Chavez will present Fidel Castro as a hero and the Cuban system as beau­tiful, and they can’t judge if it is or not.

JM: But Venezuelan media wouldn’t cover the same things? Would they talk about Iran’s pres­ident pur­suing nuc­lear weapons?

CG: Well, 90% of the Venezuelan press is private, so they bring a lot of inform­a­tion and cri­ti­cism of Chavez, but his basis of sup­port is more the masses of poor that were for­gotten by the pre­vious regimes.

JM: So they are pretty unthinking about whether this is a good idea or not?

CG: They would believe that Chavez is doing the right thing.

JM: Do you think he will leave office at some point? Is he thinking about someone to suc­ceed him?

CG: People say that he is says he wants to stay in power until 2021. To do this, he needs to change the con­sti­tu­tion. The new con­sti­tu­tion gave him access to two man­dates of six years.

JM: But he was behind that new constitution.

CG: He changed it already because pre­vi­ously it was one man­date of four years, and after that you had to go away. Venezuela had a lot of his­tory of dic­tators before the 1960s. So, two man­dates of six years was not so bad, but he’s already said he’s going to hold another ref­er­endum to give him­self the oppor­tunity to present him­self [for elec­tion] indef­in­itely. But they say that in 2021, his daughter would be ready. (laughs)

JM: Oh, no. (laughs)

CG: To enter power. She’s the one who really helped him during the coup in 2002. She helped a lot with Castro, to dis­tribute tracts, to organize the people, so she’s already known by the people.

JM: With regard to Cuba, because of what’s going on with Castro’s health, what do you think might happen when Castro dies? Will the Americans try to have more influ­ence in Cuba, will Chavez take that as a threat?

CG: It will be inter­esting to see that because I think Fidel is also trying to con­tinue his achieve­ments through Chavez. Chavez is the one he’s chosen to con­tinue his work. And when Chavez stepped out of prison in 1994, he was invited to Cuba and received as a great leader by Fidel Castro. And he was nothing at that time. It was Castro that said to him, don’t do it the same way as I’ve done it. Try to go on a demo­cratic path. Maybe it was him who also told him not to use so much cen­sor­ship, you don’t need it so much today. He’s the ref­er­ence and even Chavez has presented him as a spir­itual father.

JM: I think the dif­fer­ence of course is that Venezuela has oil. If you have money, it’s easy to make friends. These pro­grammes are helping a lot of people. The pres­ence of oil makes their real­tion­ship with the United States a very important one. Canada is also men­tioned a few times in the film. I don’t know very much about Canada’s rela­tion­ship with Venezuela.

CG: For Chavez’ gov­ern­ment, we’re part of the Empire. He refers a lot to the Empire.

JM: Sometimes he would say we don’t want to be a North American colony. So you’d think he’s not just meaning the U.S., but other times he says Venezuela needs new trading part­ners, which is very true, because Latin America has always just been America’s sup­plier of raw mater­ials. Does Canada have any sort of influ­ence there? Did you get a dif­ferent recep­tion there as a Canadian?

CG: I was better received than if I was an American, that’s for sure. There’s still a dif­fer­ence. Canada used to have a good repu­ta­tion, that could change, I don’t know.

JM: There’s a strange scene in the film where there’s an American guy at some demon­stra­tion. He says “I’m not a com­munist and I’m not a liberal.”

CG: It was a detail, but it’s a detail about what kind of people you could encounter in an oppos­i­tion march. Is he an American or is he just pro-American? He just says that he fears the threat of com­munism, and for a lot of Americans, lib­eral is a syn­onym for perdition.

JM: One of the things in the earlier film (The Revolution Will Not Be Televised) was that all of the tele­vi­sion sta­tions were owned by the oppos­i­tion. Is that still the same?

CG: What has changed is that just a week ago, Chavez didn’t renew the licence of one of the biggest private broad­casters, so some sort of cen­sor­ship is starting. He has been really cri­ti­cized for this, but he jus­ti­fied it by saying that this net­work was really bad, that they were involved in the coup d’etat of 2002, and that society didn’t need this kind of thing. It’s sort of an author­it­arian beginning.

JM: I’m prob­ably like you in that I sym­pathize with what he is trying to do, but I worry about his personality.

CG: His per­son­ality is neces­sary to do what he’s doing. You have to invent a system. He’s the only one who could do what he’s doing. You need to be really strong and powerful and have this cha­risma that he has. But after­ward, you need to build a system and then leave the system.

JM: And I don’t know if he’ll do it. I hope so.

CG: This is what Castro never suc­ceeded in doing.

JM: And you have sent the film to him? Have you heard any­thing yet.

CG: Yes, right now it’s in the Vice President’s office. And I hope they’re going to take the time to look at it.

JM: I think the film is largely sym­path­etic but it has some good cri­ti­cisms. And you point out some things that maybe he doesn’t see.

CG: I think I believe in his pro­ject, but I’m really afraid about how it has already started to get out of con­trol and how it could con­tinue to spiral out of control.

JM: The problem is that he has a lot of influ­ence in the rest of Latin America now, so he can easily say he needs to stay to help these coun­tries, Ecuador and Bolivia, for example, they’re all dis­ciples of Chavez now.

CG: But he can’t enlarge his coali­tion like he was doing before. And go with Lula [in Brazil] and go with Kirchner [in Argentina] and all these other leaders that cannot asso­ciate them­selves any­more with Chavez because he’s too radical.

JM: I think the good thing is that he started the ball rolling.

CG: He gave the pos­sib­ility for all these move­ments to exist. Because before, every social move­ment was des­troyed in the Cold War, and he’s the one in 1998 who proved that is was pos­sible to create social change without being repressive and that it works. What he’s done is working. The poor are in better con­di­tion than they were before. He’s already changed the his­tory of Latin America.

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¿¡Revolución!?

¿¡Revolución!? (Director: Charles Gervais, Canada, 2007): A few years ago, I saw a doc­u­mentary about Venezuelan pres­ident Hugo Chavez called The Revolution Will Not Be Televised. The film­makers actu­ally cap­tured the events of a 48-hour-long coup in 2002, and I was riv­eted by the film and by the story of this small but oil-rich nation. Now Canadian dir­ector Charles Gervais has provided an update on how Chavez’s revolu­tion is chan­ging Venezuela.

In the earlier film, the oppos­i­tion to Chavez seemed more organ­ized and the situ­ation on the ground more volatile. In the years since, there has been no fur­ther viol­ence, the press has remained essen­tially free, and poor Venezuelans con­tinue to benefit from gen­erous pro­grammes which have greatly improved health care and education.

The problem is that Chavez has con­tinued to pick fights with the United States. He has blamed them for the 2002 coup and has hinted darkly that the U.S. is pre­paring a mil­itary inva­sion of his country to seize its oil reserves. In his efforts to break his country away from an unbal­anced trade rela­tion­ship, he has aligned him­self with every anti-American gov­ern­ment in the world, which seems pat­ently unwise. But Chavez is a pas­sionate man, and one gets the impres­sion that he doesn’t often think too far ahead. His recent alli­ance with Iran’s smiling but hard­line pres­ident Ahmadinejad seems espe­cially dangerous.

Meanwhile, people on the streets seem to sup­port him, with the caveat that no one wants to see him in power for 40 years like Castro. The opposition’s main jibe is that Chavez is importing his ideas from Cuba and exporting them all over Latin America. It is true that there has been a marked left­ward swing in most of Latin America’s gov­ern­ments lately, and a few (Ecuador, Bolivia) have openly emu­lated Chavez’s plat­form. This is what irks the Americans the most, that they can no longer have the unfettered polit­ical influ­ence in Latin America that they once had.

Gervais’ film uses an incident from 2005 as a philo­soph­ical starting point. In that year, Chavez gave away one mil­lion copies of Cervantes’ book Don Quixote, citing Quixote as the ulti­mate dreamer and man of action, a true revolu­tionary. Using bril­liant anim­a­tions and voi­ceover, the film uses Quixote to out­line a ten-point plan for revolu­tion, and then meas­ures Venezuela’s pro­gress. The last point is instructive: Becoming Expendable. It is here where are left at the end of the film. Chavez has done many great things for his country. But his per­son­ality cult is unset­tling, and even some of his sup­porters seem wor­ried that he’ll attempt to hang onto his power too long. It’s important to remember that Quixote was also seen as a fool by many people, and that some of his efforts caused more harm than good. Many revolu­tionary move­ments have stalled at this point, and it remains to be seen whether Venezuela can main­tain its many suc­cesses without Chavez.

I approach Venezuela and Chavez from the same per­spective as Gervais, as a hopeful sym­path­izer. His aims and achieve­ments have been com­mend­able; the man him­self is a puzzle. The film seems to get the bal­ance right, while com­mu­nic­ating the pas­sion and sur­prising polit­ical acumen of Venezuelan cit­izens from right across the socio-economic spec­trum. Lively music and innov­ative use of anim­a­tion and voi­ceover made this extremely pol­ished film even more captivating.

Seville Pictures is dis­trib­uting the film and it will receive a the­at­rical release on May 25th in Toronto (at the Royal Cinema). Watch for it.

UPDATE: I’ve now posted my own inter­view with dir­ector Charles Gervais when we spoke during Hot Docs.

Official site for the film

Q&A with dir­ector Charles Gervais from the Hot Docs site

8/10(8/10)

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The Revolution Will Not Be Televised (Ireland, dir­ectors Kim Bartley and Donnacha O’Briain): Wow. This doc­u­mentary was abso­lutely jaw-dropping. The dir­ectors trav­elled to Venezuela to make a pro­file of President Hugo Chavez, and in the course of their seven month stay, were wit­nesses to the bizarre 48-hour coup which took place in April 2002.

Chavez, an immensely cha­ris­matic leader, draws almost all of his sup­port from among the poor, who make up about 80% of Venezuela’s pop­u­la­tion. Despite huge oil wealth, Venezuela has always been ruled by a small minority who have kept that wealth in the hands of the few. Chavez is obvi­ously not a pop­ular man among this crowd, nor in the eyes of the Bush admin­is­tra­tion, who clearly want Venezuela to remain a source of cheap oil, espe­cially now. Chavez planned to shake up the state oil com­pany in order to facil­itate his plan to redis­tribute some of the wealth. This led to pre­dict­able protests from the wealthy class, who also happen to own most of the news­pa­pers, tele­vi­sion and radio sta­tions in the country. This private media empire had been an unre­lenting critic of the Chavez gov­ern­ment, even in the face of genuine reforms (for instance, under Chavez, health­care and edu­ca­tion were made free, for the first time in Venezuela’s his­tory!).

I don’t mean to ramble on, but it was incred­ible how this private media manip­u­lated images in order to fur­ther the aims of the coup plot­ters. After a very tense con­front­a­tion between Chavez sup­porters and oppos­i­tion sup­porters, snipers sud­denly began firing on the pro-Chavez crowd, killing at least ten. In response, some of those in the crowd who had hand­guns (about 25% of Venezuelans, according to the film) began firing back in the dir­ec­tion of the sniper fire. The private media actu­ally ran these images and declared that the Chavez sup­porters had fired on the oppos­i­tion crowd, killing ten of them. This ver­sion of events was fed to the Western media, including CNN, who ran the manip­u­lated footage uncrit­ic­ally. This crisis led dir­ectly to sev­eral high-ranking mil­itary offi­cials calling for Chavez’ resig­na­tion, and then sur­rounding the palace with tanks to force it. All the while, the film­makers were inside the palace with mem­bers of the Chavez gov­ern­ment. Chavez refused to resign, but agreed to be taken into cus­tody by the gen­erals after they threatened to bomb the palace. The oppos­i­tion then shut down the state TV sta­tion and broad­cast that Chavez had vol­un­tarily stepped down. In reality, he was kid­napped and held hostage on an island, unable to com­mu­nicate with his min­is­ters or family.

The “interim” gov­ern­ment con­vened the next day, whereupon they dis­solved the National Assembly, the Supreme Court, and dis­missed the Attorney General and the Ombudsman, effect­ively abol­ishing all of Venezuela’s demo­cratic insti­tu­tions. As word filtered out to the people that Chavez had been imprisoned, and had not resigned, huge crowds began to sur­round the palace. Emboldened by a crowd num­bering into the hun­dreds of thou­sands, the palace guards, who had remained loyal to Chavez even while con­tinuing to do their job for the new gov­ern­ment, hatched a plan to retake the palace. Within a few hours, they had suc­ceeded, and although many of the coup leaders man­aged to escape, some were detained in the palace base­ment. The min­is­ters of Chavez’ gov­ern­ment, including the Vice President, all in hiding, were informed and all came back to claim their rightful places again. When it became clear that the rank and file of the mil­itary had not deserted Chavez, they went to release him from his island prison and he returned to Caracas in triumph.

The whole thing had taken about 48 hours, and if it hadn’t been for the massive demon­stra­tions in sup­port of Chavez, the coup would have suc­ceeded. The film was an on-the-ground account and made no claims of objectivity, but the fact that so much of the story was altered or simply ignored in North America seems inexcusable.

So, although the film­makers were simply in the right place at the right time, they also man­aged to cover a lot of details that were very illu­min­ating. The fear and des­pair of the Chavez gov­ern­ment min­is­ters on the night of the palace siege, their relief and ela­tion when they were rein­stated, the protests of the ordinary cit­izens, and even the fears of the upper classes; all were detailed with great imme­diacy. A one of a kind film experience.

(9/10)

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