Born into Brothels

The writers and directors of Born into Brothels, Zana Briski and Ross Kauffman seem to have won a lot of awards for their film, including an Academy Award for Best Documentary, but personally I was not really a fan. Sure, the film provides a rarely seen look into the red light district of Calcutta and a heartbreaking portrait of the children of prostitutes, but I think in many ways it was exploitative.

Zana Briski, a documentary photographer, enters the brothels to photograph the prostitutes and befriends their children in the process. She then decides to give the children cameras and teach them to take photographs... while filming the process of course. I am not saying that Briski did not have good intentions, she obviously felt very strongly about the children and fought very hard to get them out of the brothels, but in the process the documentary became her story, not the children's. I do not think her film should really qualify as a documentary because she controlled every aspect of the story.

Many of the contemporary documentaries we have watched have blurred the boundaries of objectivity, but Briski breaks them down completely. She is the central character, narrator, writer and director (along with Kauffman) of the film. Everyone watching this documentary wants to see these children get out of the brothels, particularly the girls who will be forced into prostitution very young, but Briski seems to project cultural values onto these children and their families that they simply do not possess.

Briski grew close to these children, so it is only natural that she would feel such a strong responsibility to save them from the brothels, but some have argued that her efforts actually had a negative effect on the children. Regardless of whether she helped or hurt these children, she allowed her attachment to affect her ability to act as a documentary filmmaker and to tell these children's stories. She should have chosen her role as a documentary filmmaker or a social worker and not tried to combine the two. The positive reception of her film probably had more to do with the children who appeared in it. It is impossible not to admire the strength and smarts of these young kids and to want to see them succeed, but we cannot forget that there are thousands more who share their fate. We cannot, like Briski allow ourselves to be blinded by our attachment to these children.

Children of Men

At first I was surprised that we were going to watch Children of Men in class because it is a narrative film. Once I experienced director Alfonso Cuaron's distinct visual style, however, the choice made perfect sense.

Set two decades in the future in a dystopian society plagued by worldwide infertility, the film addresses the concept of faith in the face of utter hopelessness. It also tackles the issue of immigration law by presenting Britain as a country consumed by the search for and torture of illegal immigrants. There is a wealth of strong imagery in the film, which makes visual references to Catholicism, war reporting, and the Holocaust through startling scenes of detainee camps and terrorism.

The most striking visual aspect of the film, however, is Cuaron's stunning use of extended single shot sequences. The film mimics the style of a documentary film by using hand held cameras that follow the action without interruption. The camera shakes throughout the film and at one point blood splatters onto the lens, which creates an effect rarely seen in narrative film. During a scene where the main character, Theo, is running down a street through a war zone, the camera seamlessly follows his every move. The viewer always remain at eye level with Theo whether he is running, ducking, or kneeling with a gun pointed at his head. In this way, the viewer becomes part of the action, or at least believes that the cameraman is. The effect of these scenes is that the entire film feels frighteningly real and extremely raw.

I thought Children of Men was an incredible film. The fluidity of the camerawork, strength of the imagery, and open ended nature of the plot made it interesting and engaging. There are many details which are never fully explained and even the ending is left open for interpretation. Do we find hope in the final scene or defeat? Are we a witness to the apocalypse or to a new beginning for mankind?

Who Killed the Electric Car?

Who Killed the Electric Car? does not hide its bias (its right there in the title) as it follows the birth, brief life, and death of General Motor's EV1 electric car. There are a wealth of interviews in the film, from former EV1 drivers, members of the development team, politicians, General Motors spokespeople, politicians, and celebrities such as a crazed looking Mel Gibson. It also has a good soundtrack and clever organization.

Without feigning objectivity, the film contains a list of "suspects"(consumers, batteries, oil companies, car companies, government, California air resources board, and hydrogen fuel cells) which the filmmakers "investigate" then proceed to render verdicts on. This is a far cry from traditional documentaries which simply capture action as it occurs with the purpose of maintaining an objective distance. Not only did the filmmakers have a motive in making this film, but they also entered their own opinions directly into the piece.

The film certainly covers a lot of ground in an hour and a half and some of the evidence it presents is persuasive to say the least. I myself feel very strongly about environmental issues and this film definitely upset me. If we have the technology to produce these cars we should be doing so. There are batteries with capacities which more than compensate for the daily driving needs of most Americans, yet there are no electric cars on the road. The addition of electric cars into the market could have a profound impact on our carbon emissions in this country. At the very least, hybrid plug ins should already be widespread considering how attainable and plausible this technology is.

Despite the fact that I know Who Killed the Electric Car? has a biased point of view, I was still convinced by this film. It appealed to me on an emotional and intellectual level enough to make me want to take some kind of action. Today's documentary films do not necessarily have to resemble National Geographic programs. Our concept of what it means to be a documentary film has broadened as rhetoric has entered the picture more and more explicitly.

Holy Watergate

Many of the films we have viewed this semester have been disturbing in some way, but Holy Watergate, produced, written, directed, and narrated by Mary Healey of URI, brought it to a whole new level. Healey combines documentary and investigative journalism to uncover the story behind sexual abuse by priests in our area. She is obviously very skilled because the interviews she manages to get for her film are extraordinary. Among those who appear on camera are several abuse victims (including one who is now himself a Catholic priest), a former priest who admits to having sexually abused children, and a high ranking U.S. Cardinal with some surprising personal thoughts on the scandal.

Healey herself is personally invested in the story. One of the former victims in the film is a childhood friend of hers. This connection interferes with the critical distance usually required by filmmakers in traditional documentaries, but it seems to be the trend in contemporary documentaries to slightly overstep these boundaries. Despite this possible conflict, the film is excellent and incredibly dense in evidence. Not only does she expose how the Catholic Church attempted to cover up the scandal by shuttling abusive priests from parish to parish and intimidating victims with potential lawsuits, but she also addresses the media's failure to adequately cover the scandal.

Holy Watergate continues the theme of good and evil that has been present throughout most of the documentaries we have watched this semester. For children it seems so easy to recognize right from wrong and good from evil, which is unfortunately what makes them easily victimized. As we grow, however, its becomes apparent that there is no way to recognize evil. It exists among the commonplace and often among the very people we are supposed to trust.

Sister Rose's Passion

Sister Rose's Passion probably owes most of its success to its subject, Sister Rose Thering, an 84 year old Dominican nun who is one tough cookie. She has dedicated her life to changing the Catholic Church's teachings about Jesus and the Jewish people and fighting anti-Semitism. This is an interesting and difficult stance for a Catholic nun to take, and surprisingly to some she has been fought every step of the way by her superiors and peers.

The documentary succeeded because it allowed the "character" of Sister Rose to take the forefront throughout the film through her personal commentary and lectures. It was most likely very difficult for the filmmakers to gain access to information on the Catholic Church relating to this issue, but they presented solid evidence to back up the story they were telling. The filmmakers also managed to maintain an objective distance from their subject.

It is not surprising that this film was nominated for an Academy Award. Not only was I pulled into the film by Sister Rose's enormous personality, but the documentary also managed to play on the theme of the power of the individual against society without appearing cheesy in the least. Sister Rose's determination succeeded in changing Church doctrine. Anyone who submits to feeling powerless in any situation should keep her story in mind.

Prisoner of Paradise

Prisoner of Paradise presented an interesting story which relied completely on the film's objectivity. German actor Kurt Gerron is a complex study in human behavior. Assigning him blame for the film he created for the Nazis is problematic, yet it is also impossible to see him solely as a victim. Many men before and after Gerron have seen pride become their fatal flaw. Gerron let ambition stop him from escaping Europe when he still had the chance and it likely played a factor in his decision to direct a Nazi propaganda film about the concentration camps. Maybe Gerron really believed that making the film would save his life, but he was well aware that the children he attempted to capture with smiling faces would shortly be shipped by train to their deaths. Surely he knew deep down that he was not far behind. Gerron's film victimized his fellow captives all over again by forcing them to be used as instruments of deception. His film was meant to show the world that the people who would later murder him were humane and compassionate. Gerron was not an evil man, and he was not a Nazi, but he was still capable of being swept into the madness, and for that he paid a price.

Triumph of the Will

Triumph of the Will has a startling relevance in our society today. The most important issue raised by this film is how difficult it is to recognize evil. One would expect a Nazi propaganda film to be filled with hate and images of atrocities, yet director Leni Riefenstahl creates a portrait of the Nazis which hides this hate behind a veil of nationalism and progress. She uses the camera impressively to portray the magnitude of Hitler's support. At one point the camera pans over the tents of troops (who are all the picture of health and happiness) which seem to stretch on into infinity. The crowds which greet Hitler at his various speaking events also appear limitless. Riefenstahl made use of 30 moving cameras to create these effects, a number which was considerably ambitious, particularly for the time. The entire effect of the film, beginning with the opening scene in which Hitler descends into Germany in a plane, is to deify Hitler, which is an issue that seems to be a problem in our country today. In creating this type of persona in our leader we hand far too much power and infallibility to one individual and plant the seeds of corruption in blind obedience.