Samsara

Samsara is a wonder to behold. The Sanskrit word means “continuous flow”, the repeating cycle of birth, life, death and reincarnation. This non-verbal documentary was filmed over four years in 25 countries around the world across 5 continents by director/cinematographer Ron Fricke. Baraka was Fricke‘s 1992 experimental cinema that covered much of the same territory. Now 20 years later we get this sequel of sorts. The granddaddy of this genre is Koyaanisqatsi (1983) on which Fricke was the cinematographer. Like that picture, time-lapse photography is frequently used to depict a heightened reality of a world we see every day. Scenes quickly unfold before our eyes in a stunning document of events that often take much longer. This is the music video as anthropology. Cultural revelations designed to shock and awe. The images will provoke laughter, tears, disgust and joy. All of this is underscored by a soundtrack featuring ambient music by Michael Stearns, Lisa Gerrard, and Marcello De Francisci.

There is no narrative but there is a point. Samsara is celebration of the environment filtered through an anti-urbanization milieu. Mechanized society is bad. Nature and indigenous cultures are good. Of course what you actually take away from this documentary depends on what you bring to it. The spectacle is ripe for free association by the viewer. Without any narration or story, we are compelled to fill in the blanks and make our own inferences as to how these images relate. No two people are going to have the same experience watching this film. It’s the cinematic equivalent of a tone poem.

At times the exhibition begs for an explanation. Witness men in orange jumpsuits dancing choreography in utter precision to techno music. The production is better than a halftime show, more precise than a Broadway musical. Their exuberance is captivating and their spirit is contagious. The fact that these are prisoners at the Cebu Provincial Detention and Rehabilitation Center in the Philippines prompts the question: what is going on here? We are never given an answer (or even where this was photographed) it’s simply on to the next display.

The documentary works best when the spectator doesn’t feel as if they’re being manipulated. Hundreds of plucked live chickens being vacuumed up by a thresher like machine is an indelible image that’s hard to shake. It’s an obvious scolding to non vegetarians. “How dare you eat meat! This travesty is your fault.” If it’s possible to gild the lily in a negative way, the filmmakers succeed. We’re presented 3 gargantuan Americans stuffing their faces at a fast food restaurant immediately after. Also for your reflection, are women wearing burqas standing in front an underwear ad of male models in Dubai mall . Their juxtaposition manipulated to highlight the obvious double standard is mildly exploitative. The aftermath of Hurricane Katrina is contrasted with the Palace of Versailles. And then there’s the random insert of a French performance artist as businessman dressed in suit and tie that aggressively rubs clay and paint all over his face. It doesn’t even fit within the context of the picture. I guess he was showing us what a nervous breakdown looks like. Awkward.

The document thrives when it celebrates our world without judgment. A Symphonic poem, the breathtaking images literally hypnotize the viewer into a trance inducing state. From, religious place of worship like pagodas in Burma and the vaulted ceilings of the Vatican to Muslims circling the Grand Mosque at Mecca. Gorgeous vistas of the sandstone arches of Utah’s Monument Valley to half dome Yosemite Valley. Even the urban cityscapes of Shanghai and Dubai: archive a poetic beauty amongst all the natural wonders. A cityscape at night shows cars zipping along the highway in multicolored electronic glow. Like glowing electronic arteries, the modernity is hypnotic on the big screen. It’s the visual manifestation of a dream and occasionally a nightmare. If a picture is worth a thousand words, then Samsara would take a lifetime to read.

Searching for Sugar Man

Note: Because I don’t want to lessen this documentary’s impact, this is spoiler free. As a result, my analysis isn’t as specific as I would like it to be. However what my review lacks in detail you will gain in enjoyment when you watch the film. And I beseech you, please watch this film. It should be noted these surprises can easily be discovered by casual research regarding the subject. Therefore avoid all articles (except this one of course).

Two aficionados endeavor to discover what became of their favorite recording artist. Rodriguez was an American singer-songwriter from Detroit who released two albums: “Cold Fact” in 1970 and “Coming from Reality” in 1971. Both flopped in the U.S. Maybe it was the songs’ highly politicized message, the pervasive drug references, a failure of marketing or perhaps something else altogether. Why Rodriguez never connected with the American public is a question one may ask any entertainer of undeniable ability. His fate is not unlike the thousands of other talents who never make it. Except this tale is notably different. “Cold Fact” found its way into Cape Town, South Africa where it was warmly accepted by progressive Afrikaners rebelling against the government. Bootleg copies were made and spread rapidly amongst white South Africans who embraced his music as a soundtrack for the anti-apartheid movement. Yet these fans knew little about their idol’s life. One rumor claimed that he’d ended it by committing suicide on stage by setting himself ablaze.

The film’s narrative focuses more on the quest of two South African fans to make sense of what happened to this musical icon rather than in shedding light on the man himself. The search was spearheaded by an indie record store owner named Stephen Segerman and an investigative journalist Craig Bartholomew-Strydom back in the late 90s. Along the way we‘re treated to a generous helping of Rodriguez’ work. It becomes a saga of how a performer’s legacy can touch the lives of their listeners in ways they may never know. Rodriguez’ blend of folk and funk with a side of country seemed to fit perfectly within the psychedelic landscape of the early 70s. Bob Dylan is an obvious influence. If you enjoy his style of music, this soundtrack is a must.

Searching for Sugar Man presents an inspiring tale of one Sixto Diaz Rodriguez. He remains an enigmatic mystery even by the end of the feature. His face constantly shrouded by large sunglasses and a mane of black hair. It spoils nothing to say the two fans featured do ultimately uncover the truth. As promised, the unexpected developments will not be revealed here. The documentary can be seen as a meditation on the unpredictable tastes of the masses. Why musicians can sell millions of records in one country and be virtually ignored in another. Rodriguez story is a fascinating one. This is a movie for anyone who has ever toiled in obscurity doing something they loved without recognition or success. An uplifting docudrama that celebrates the joy of a human life.

The Imposter

In 1994 a 13 year old boy vanishes from his rural San Antonio town. Over 3 years later, his family receives a call from a Spanish children’s shelter claiming Nicholas Barclay has been found alive in Linares, Spain. But not so fast, this is called The Imposter. That tells you not everything should be taken at face value. Spellbinding documentary delves into the bizarre 1997 case whereby a French con artist claims to be a family’s long lost son.

Of all the evidence this account presents, it is the one-on-one interviews that captures the viewer’s attention most. Chief among the relevant participants is Frédéric Bourdin, the 23-year-old Frenchman and criminal who passed himself off as their lost child. In actuality, he’s 7 years older, has brown eyes and dark hair in contrast to their son’s blue eyes and blonde hair and speaks with an accent. We learn in detail how he was able to accomplish this seemingly impossible task. Or at least he explains what he did.  We’re also introduced to Carey Gibson – the older sister of Nicholas Barclay, Beverly Dollarhide – their mother and Bryan Gibson – Carey‘s husband and Nicholas’ uncle. Representing law enforcement we meet Nancy Fisher, the former FBI Special Agent assigned to the case and Charlie Parker, a Private Investigator, who felt something was wrong.

Director Bart Layton has clearly studied the Errol Morris rule book of documentary filmmaking. That’s good. Key events, that were never filmed, are re-enacted using actors. Layton wisely doesn’t reveal anything before it’s absolutely positively necessary. As details evolve, the focus fluctuates between Frédéric Bourdin to the relatives of the victim. Who is this stranger and why would he claim to be their missing child? Why does the family welcome him as their son? You’ll have many more questions as the drama unfolds. By the end there are still those that go unanswered.  As a investigative report it may raise issues it doesn’t, or rather cannot answer, but as a thriller it’s incredibly fascinating.

This is a study in human psychology as much as it is a missing persons case. Just when you think you have it all figured out, the audience is thrown another curve ball. The twisted story becomes even more perplexing as it plays out. There is a clear feeling of anxiety with the whole situation. The incidents resemble something sinister at times. The general uneasiness gives the viewer a dread that they stepped into a true life horror film. But horror from creepiness, not from actual gore. This reviewer hates relying on clichéd phrases like “truth is stranger than fiction” but please grant me the crutch of that hackneyed phrase because its so apropos. If this had been a work of fiction I would’ve faulted the saga for its implausibility. It’s too far-fetched. Yet these events actually happened.  That’s the hardest thing to accept.

Pina

Pina Bausch was a German choreographer who specialized in modern dance. She was the director for the Tanztheater (“dance theatre”) Wuppertal which focused on a particularly avant-garde expressionist version. In 2009, Pina was preparing to collaborate with German director Wim Wenders on this documentary. They were in the early preparatory stages when she suddenly died at the age of 68, five days after being diagnosed with cancer. Heartbroken he abandoned the project. However following the encouragement of the dancers from her company, he was inspired to continue making a film about her, even if it couldn’t feature her. Instead those same performers who had worked with Pina, could provide testament to her genius, Their words heard as background narration while their visages stare into the camera’s lens.

The picture presents four of Pina’s most noted pieces in her style. Regrettably, Pina is rarely seen and there is precious little insight into the woman herself. What Wim Wenders’ has decided, is to let the performances speak for her. As a biography on what must be a fascinating woman, it’s sadly lacking. However as a work of art, it’s captivating. Pina is not so much an informative document as it is an affirmation of the artistry of Pina Bausch. The film highlights four of her most signature pieces on a stage with silhouettes of the audience sitting at the bottom. Among the works introduced is the poignant Café Müller (1978) in which performers stumble around the stage crashing into tables and chairs. Other minor pieces are filmed outdoors. In each case, Pina uses every inch of space in her choreography to allow her dancers to convey feeling. I know nothing about this art form, but that didn’t stop me from being continually mesmerized by the dancers’ work. Their emotion is palpable.

Wim Wenders’ has done a tremendous job in bringing Pina’s artistry to the screen. The director has used cranes and steady cams to capture the dance as if we were in the middle of the production. He’s also chosen to shoot the film in 3D. It’s not required to enjoy the spectacle, but certainly highly recommended. The addition of the 3D format significantly adds to the feeling of being there on stage. The technically complex choreography of the troupe is even more impressive. Every time a new piece unfolded on screen I was transfixed not only by the dancing, but also by the creative cinematography and the beautiful music. By the end, one realizes this is merely a series of performances. There is no narrative about the woman herself to truly get us emotionally involved. Personally I can only get so excited about modern dance. However, before Pina, I had never heard of the choreographer and now I am a fan. Wim Wenders has made a hypnotic document to the legacy of an incredibly talented individual. Without words he presents a moving elegy full of feeling. Pina is a heady mix of her artistry and Wim Wenders’ direction.

Senna

Riveting documentary on the life and career of Brazilian Formula One racecar driver Ayrton Senna. Formula One or F1 is the highest class of single seater auto racing sanctioned by the Fédération Internationale de l’Automobile (FIA). Senna, who in his ten years of F1 competition won the world championship three times, is widely regarded as one of, if not the greatest F1 driver of all time. The film builds a fairly convincing case of Senna’s importance in the pursuit of racing.

We are presented with an organized and interesting story, enjoyed by the fanatic as well as the casual spectator. Make no mistake, however, it will help to have some interest in auto racing to truly appreciate this biography.  A motorsport enthusiast will find more to love here. Filmmaker Asif Kapadia uses archival footage to show what it’s like to race from the driver’s perspective. These scenes are exhilarating. Formula One cars race at speeds of up to 220 mph (360 km/h). I, not knowing anything about Formula One Racing, gained a real appreciation for the talent and skill needed to be successful. You have to essentially memorize the racetrack because the twists and turns come so fast, it’s impossible to navigate without having some prior knowledge of what’s coming.

Where the picture truly shines is in the narrative which is built entirely from existing footage from Senna’s life. Director Asif Kapadia pored through thousands of hours of film to assemble the brilliantly edited piece of filmmaking here. Senna initially began his career with racing go-karts as a teenager. It clearly was a pivotal time in his life because it laid the groundwork for his life’s passion. He refers to kart racing as the purest form of the sport where politics played no part. He wistfully recalls those days a couple times during the story. We get to know the man directly and his own words largely form the structure of his story. When new narration is inserted, it’s underlying original footage of the era. Through brilliantly assembled archival footage we are introduced to the man and offered a window into his personality. He often comes off as surprisingly humble. Given his triumphs I would have expected a much more boastful individual.

His fierce patriotism is emotionally affecting. It’s inspiring to behold what he meant to Brazil, where he remains a national hero. Brazil didn’t have the greatest image as it was suffering through terrible times. But he reflected his Brazilian roots with joy. He brought honor and acclaim to his nation. After every victory he would take his lap of honor waving the Brazilian flag. Perhaps his most emotional race was the 1991 Brazilian Grand Prix. Surrounded by his countrymen, it was an event Senna was overjoyed to win. His pride is infectious.

Director Kapadia has a respectful almost fawning reverence for Senna that sometimes gets in the way of an impartial depiction. This is where the biography falls short.  We’re invited to side with Senna in his intense rivalry with French World Champion Alain Prost. Of course what would his story be without a nemesis? But Prost, with his smooth, relaxed style, doesn‘t seem particularly hateful. He was rather successful however, ultimately becoming a Formula One Drivers’ Champion, four-times. Also Senna’s clashes with Jean-Marie Balestre, president of the FIA from 1985 to 1993, contribute to his grievances. It‘s during these moments Senna appears aloof and frustrated with the pastime. All of these controversies flesh out the profile of a man essentially in love with, but occasionally disheartened with the sport. It’s a stunning portrait and the documentary overall is absorbing from beginning to end. The tension climaxes to a momentous event at the 1994 San Marino Grand Prix. It’s an emotional conclusion, one you won’t soon forget.

Tabloid

Documentarian extraordinaire, Errol Morris turns his attention to the authentic story of a former Miss Wyoming. Her obsession with her one true love compelled her to venture to Europe to find the man who mysteriously disappeared from her life. The title refers to the British tabloids that had a field day with the scandal back in 1977. “The Manacled Mormon” was how the case came to be known. “Kinky sex, religion, a beauty queen, Mormon missionaries, forcibly kidnapped. There was something in that story for everyone. It was a perfect tabloid story,” affirms a tabloid reporter. Apparently it dominated the English tabloid papers in the late 1970s, but I have yet to encounter someone in the US who was familiar with the crime before this movie came out. No matter. The account is a perfect example of how “truth is stranger than fiction”.

Errol Morris’ unbiased presentation of the facts, or at least how the principals see them, is riveting. On the one hand, there is a woman who claims she went to England to rescue her husband from the Mormons who brainwashed him. On the other hand, you have a man who alleges he was kidnapped at gunpoint, then raped while shacked to a bed. Perhaps reality is somewhere in the middle as one ex-Mormon suggests.  He recounts how the church exploited the controversy as an ominous reminder of the feminine wiles of the fairer sex. Despite the sensational and salacious details, the tone is clearly tongue in cheek. The information is presented with animations and collages that recreate scenes and old film stock that illustrates the points being made. They’re humorous and keep things interesting . However, none of that even comes close to being as affecting as the conversations with the woman at the center of the situation.

Only 6 people are questioned, but boy does Morris makes those interviews count. They each help clarify a most bewildering matter. Joyce McKinney is quite a character. At times she seems humorously charismatic, at others pathetically delusional. I suppose it’s those contrasts that make her statements so fascinating. There’s also Jackson Shaw, the pilot she hired to fly her to England, the Daily Express reporter Peter Tory who covered the exploits back then, ex-Mormon missionary Troy Williams, the photographer for the Daily Mirror Kent Gavin, and lastly Dr. Hong the scientist in Korea who cloned her beloved dog years later. None of these people can be considered a reliable narrator, but Morris isn’t really concerned with authenticating anyone’s story. They’re all presented as mere parts to a larger puzzle that the viewer must assemble and understand. Markedly absent is Kirk Anderson, the object of her desire. Sadly he is never interviewed as he (not surprisingly) declined to be interviewed for this feature. Although even his absence sheds some light on the events in question.

In the end, we really aren’t any closer to a certainty than we were in the beginning. It’s not even clear what the director thinks about his subject. But  Morris definitely shows an interest in his topic that comes through.  The drama is intriguing and worthy of his talent.  Tabloid may not have the sense of importance of his best work, but it is entertaining and well produced. It’s like a good mystery that lacks an ending that neatly explains everything. In a documentary, that’s actually kind of admirable.

Project Nim

James Marsh who directed Man on Wire, the 2008 Academy Award winner for Best Documentary, turns his attention to a study in which a baby chimpanzee was raised and nurtured like a human child. Conducted in the early 1970s by Herbert S. Terrace, professor of psychology at Columbia University, the thesis was predicated on the belief that a monkey brought up in this way, could be taught to use American Sign Language as a means to communicate. This then would shed light on the way a vocabulary is acquired and used by individuals. The simian was named Nim Chimpsky, a pun on Noam Chomsky, the celebrated linguist who did not hold these beliefs. Chomsky believed only humans develop language in this fashion.

One might expect a sweet tale regarding a lovable chimpanzee and how similar they are to us. But that is not the story documented here. Right from the start, it’s apparent that this is not going to be a feel good documentary.  It’s the exposé of flawed human behavior that drives the narrative. The goal was to evaluate whether a monkey could comprehend language in a manner comparable to that of a human baby. However, these scientists failed to utilize professional methods. First he was removed from his mother at two weeks, not at birth. Then he was shuttled from “family” to “family” never really establishing a proper connection with any of them.

The arrogance these scientists exhibit is troubling, but from this random sample, a quality that many in the field seem to share. What’s fascinating is this picture suggests not just the selfish motives of these researchers, but of all researchers. The professor in charge, Herbert Terrace, comes across as a rather callous individual. While I believe he and his team had honorable intentions at the outset, the experiment clearly did not end properly, as presented here. However at no time did I ever sense director James Marsh was judging these scientists. He allows them to speak for themselves and their frank honesty is compelling. Many come off as sincere and genuinely caring about Nim’s welfare. You may find yourself agreeing with statements they make, but likewise hating them for what they did. So disturbing was this report, it made me question the validity of animal testing in general and a facility as seemingly innocuous as a zoo.

Based on Elizabeth Hess’s book, Nim Chimpsky: The Chimp Who Would Be Human, Project Nim is a well presented, but unsettling and thoroughly depressing story. The way the events unfold can be infuriating to behold. It’s much deeper than I expected. This is not some sentimental reminiscence concerning a cute chimp. It’s a document of how poorly this scientific test was regulated. It takes a surprisingly atypical point of view. The documentary goes to great lengths not to misrepresent Nim as human and moreover doesn’t push the humans as barbarians either. I admire that level of impartiality. Yet I wanted to be more emotionally invested in the research. Make no mistake, it made me profoundly sad. It was an affecting chronicle of an experiment gone wrong. But it’s hard to care when the monkey shows more humanity than the people.

Page One: Inside the New York Times

Documentary on the changing face of journalism provides a behind the scenes look at the New York Times. That daily periodical has always been ONE of the most hallowed in journalism. Let’s not forget The Wall Street Journal after all.  That is clearly the opinion of director Andrew Rossi. He was granted rare access to the New York Times newsroom for a year. This investigative report analyzes how the Internet and modern media has changed the print business and the way in which people get their news. There is a very real battle to stay relevant at the moment. Newspapers all across the U.S. are going bankrupt.

I suppose one’s enjoyment of Page One will rest on whether you even care if the New York Times survives or not. My feeling is, the paper deserves to exist if the public wants it to exist. Does it contribute a service that the people are willing to support? The paper must adapt to the modern world. But the documentary does the publication a disservice by treating it as a historical monument that must be supported because it’s necessary for the good of society. I don’t know if things have changed, but the New York Times was a business the last moment I checked, not a charity. That’s not always obvious from Rossi’s effort to convince us of its relevance. He does provide a window into the contemporary newspaper game and for that, it is entertaining. Still, there isn’t enough to convince us of his point, even at 88 minutes. Regardless, this feels more like a segment on 60 minutes than a feature film anyway.

The focus jumps around too much, touching on many topics, but never really delving too deeply on any one thing. “Freedom of information” website WikiLeaks, which publishes secret documents from anonymous sources, is touched upon for example. Its editor-in-chief, Internet activist Julian Assange could be a documentary subject unto himself. Other scenes involve interviews with various staff members at The New York Times. These talking heads, with one exception, weren’t particularly engaging. Of these staffers, the majority of time is wisely given to media and culture columnist, David Carr. His inclusion is something of a double edged sword. It’s understandable that the filmmakers would devote such an enormous amount of time to his point of view. He’s a caustic character to be sure, and a hilariously fascinating one at that. However his outlook is merely one person’s opinion and I would’ve liked to have heard more from opposing view points. We get a few snatches here and there, but they’re fleeting. Carr’s dominance is exhibited throughout the entire film.

Web based news blogger Arianna Huffington tosses a memorably glib line at one point when she addresses her detractors by saying “I was not around when the printing press was invented; but if I were around I would imagine that the people dealing with stone tablets would be making a similar argument.” If that statement provokes an emotional reaction in you, then you should find Rossi’s report interesting at least. Unfortunately I didn’t think he did a satisfactory job of convincing the audience to cherish those “stone tablets”. The way it’s presented here, it felt like mourning the eclipse of the horse and buggy in the shadow of the automobile.

Cave of Forgotten Dreams

Werner Herzog, eccentric legend of the New German Cinema, directs and narrates this documentary about the Chauvet Caves in France. Discovered in 1994 they are home to the oldest drawings in the world today, dating back over 30,000 years ago. In an effort to preserve the archeological find, the general public are not allowed to enter. The French government has even vigilantly restricted access within the caverns. This then is a rare examination of this historical treasure. The unprecedented look is the film’s biggest asset.

The documentary has sort of a two faced duality to it. When Herzog is filming inside the caves and allows the natural and manmade wonders to speak for themselves, the presentation is otherworldly and magical. The prehistoric drawings are astonishingly well preserved and surprisingly have a lot of artistic style. The appropriate music underscores their beauty. But unfortunately we’re also subjected to talking head interviews of various paleontologists, archaeologists and art experts. By the time a perfume sniffer is imposed on us, the tedium is mind-numbing.

The feature was shot in 3-D using special cameras custom built for the production. It’s difficult to imagine seeing these artifacts any other way. They capture the tactile feel of the cave, giving life to the glittering wonder from within. I’m convinced that this is the future of 3-D filmmaking. Once its novelty use in fiction has worn off, the necessity of 3-D in documentaries will live on. The process is absolutely essential to appreciating the cave’s allure. There is at least 30 minutes of extraordinary footage that beats any informational video seen at your city’s Natural History Museum.  Note: the film is 90 minutes long

Bill Cunningham New York

One of a kind documentary about Bill Cunningham, a fashion photographer for The New York Times. More of a cultural anthropologist, he documents style as it happens out on the streets of New York City. His impromptu pictures have become a regular series of the newspaper for over 30 years. Half of the time we are treated to his fascinating snapshots that capture the true expression of a metropolis better than any runway show every could. The photos are of real people, stylish and flamboyant, captured for all the world to see. They are a celebration of the urban inhabitants, as well as the city itself. The other half of the time, we are presented with the portrait of a man, unassuming and utterly without pretension. He is distrustful of money, shunning monetary reward to a fault, riding from place to place on a Schwinn bicycle. He lives in a cramped studio apartment in Carnegie hall, packed to the ceiling with file cabinets of his negatives. A man who finds utter joy in his work capturing fashion and strangely little else it seems. His passion is remarkable. So exhaustive is his document that director Richard Press subtly suggests Cunningham’s equal importance among more celebrated luminaries like Richard Avedon and Helmut Newton in the field of fashion photography. To enjoy this film, you needn’t be fond of New York, nor do you have to appreciate photography. You don’t even need to have an interest in fashion. You simply must have a love for humanity. In other words, you should be human.