Category: Documentary

By Joe Bendel. Evidently, you can still get addicted to the internet, even when it is heavily censored. China has become the first nation to official classify internet addiction as a psychological disorder. To combat the menace of World of Warcraft dependant teenagers, the government has instituted a network of boot camp style clinics to “cure” the anti-social gamers. Gaining unprecedented access to the Daxing Boot Camp outside of Beijing, Israeli filmmakers Shosh Shlam and Hilla Medalia document their patients’ response to treatment in Web Junkie, which opens this Wednesday at Film Forum.

They are mostly boys, aged thirteen to eighteen or so. From what viewers see, each and every one of them are gamers, suggesting the government is censoring the wrong websites, if they are really concerned about the social development of younger generations. Since most patient/inmates are either tricked into entering Daxing or in some cases drugged, the initial adjustment is often a rough process. However, once resigned to their situation, they typically try to say and do what they think the staff wants to hear.

Despite the admittedly excessive hours the patients had spent gaming (several uninterrupted days straight in many cases), none of the featured teens ever expresses any love or passion for their games. Yet, when a recent arrival stages a successful escape, they all head directly for an internet café.

Indeed, most of the kids in treatment seem rather dead inside. Frankly, they might benefit from access to Ai Weiwei’s blog and information on the real Dalai Lama. Clearly, they do not relate to either the Party ideology represented by the camp director or the go-go capitalism practiced by their parents, but they have nothing to fill that void accept first-person shooters.

Shlam and Medalia capture some very real drama, but their strictly observational approach apparently precluded them from asking any tough questions of the staff. It would be especially interesting to know how many of their charges are the sons of Party members, compared to those who come from religious families. The Chinese Communist Party’s legacy of “re-education” also distractingly hangs over the film, like an unacknowledged ghost.

Web Junkie is an eye-opening look at Chinese spiritual malaise, but it never really attempts to determine if the internet addiction diagnoses are genuine and whether the Daxing regimen is really necessary. Frankly, the evidence Shlam and Medalia collect looks rather ambiguous from a layperson’s standpoint. However, there is clearly a profound generational gap at play. Recommended for those who closely watch Chinese sociological developments, Web Junkie opens this Wednesday (8/6) at New York’s Film Forum. We also wish the best for the Israeli crew and their families as they bravely confront yet another round of craven terrorist attacks from Hamas.

LFM GRADE: B

Posted on August 4th, 2014 at 10:00pm.

By Joe Bendel. They are the first family of American Roots music and they represent royalty at its most hardscrabble. While many of their songs dated back generations, country music as a thing to market and identify with pretty much started with the Carter Family and a handful of other artists signed to Victor Records during the recording industry’s infancy. Beth Harrington chronicles the family history behind the music in The Winding Stream: the Carters, the Cashes, and the Course of Country Music, which screens free of charge during the Film Society of Lincoln Center’s Sound + Vision Film Series.

The Carters lived most of their lives in the Poor Valley region of southern Virginia. It was not named with irony. The land is hard and unforgiving, but most work still revolves around agriculture. However, A.P. Carter had an ambitious notion that the family’s musical talent could earn them a better life. With his somewhat reluctant wife Sara and sister-in-law Maybelle, Carter formed a trio that would be known professionally as the Carter Family. At great inconvenience, A.P. dragged the women out to perform for Victor producer Ralph Peer, who was scouring the region like a commercial Alan Lomax for songs that would appeal to a “traditional” market.

Of course, the Carter Family perfectly fit the bill, but they nearly forgot about their legendary sessions during the lag between the informal recordings and the release of their 78s. Nevertheless, they sold well enough to vindicate A.P. Carter’s lofty ambitions. Unfortunately, the original ensemble would eventually fracture along with A.P.’s marriage to Sara. For years, Maybelle Carter performed with her daughters as Mother Maybelle and the Carter Sisters before reclaiming the official Carter Family mantle. As most fans know, one of the Carter Sisters was June, who turned the head of a talented but troubled young performer named Johnny Cash.

While telling the Carter story, Harrington also addresses some largely forgotten early Twentieth Century cultural history, such as the phenomenon of ultra-high wattage Border Radio and the ethically problematic attribution of traditional songs assumed by the likes of A.P. Carter. For obvious reasons, Johnny Cash plays an essential role in the film, but Harrington never lets him outshine the Carters. Her musical instincts are also quite shrewd, including plenty of archival clips, a stirring rendition of the title song by Rosanne Cash, and a bizarrely good musical flash mob performance of “Will the Circle Be Unbroken,” attesting to the song’s lasting resonance.

Harrington does indeed touch all the necessary documentary bases, but arguably what is most refreshing about Stream is her sensitive treatment of the largely white, God-fearing, under-advantaged population of Poor Valley. There is no sneering at their “Jesus talk” or condescending commentary on their un-cosmopolitan style. Instead, she respects them on their terms.

Winding is often entertaining, featuring original performances from the likes of John Prine and Cheryl Crow, but it also submerges viewers in the ancient spirit of their artifice-free music. One commentator says the Carters’ music exposes us as the “fakers” we are—and it is easy to get what he means. Recommended for fans of “roots” music and those who appreciate old school Americana, The Winding Stream screens for free this coming Monday (8/4) at the Walter Reade Theater, as part of Sound + Vision.

LFM GRADE: A-

Posted on July 31st, 2014 at 10:53pm.

By Joe Bendel. You can judge the legitimacy of Belarus President-for-life Alexander Lukashenko’s latest “re-election” by the countries that sent their congratulations: Venezuela, Syria, Russia, China, and deposed Ukrainian president Viktor Yanukovych. For many, it was just business as usual in what has been dubbed “Europe’s Last Dictatorship.” However, it was an outrageous affront to independent thinking Belarusians, like the underground Belarus Free Theatre (BFT). Filmmaker Madeleine Sackler provides an uncensored chronicle of the activist artists’ Annus horribilis in Dangerous Acts Starring the Unstable Elements of Belarus, which premieres this coming Monday on HBO.

In a state as pervasively regulated as Belarus, any theater group that forthrightly holds a mirror up to society will have to operate outside the official arts bureaucracy, in direct defiance of the law. The small rag-tag troupe was accustomed to a routine level of surveillance and harassment, but the presidential election on December 19, 2010 precipitated a nationwide reign of terror. Co-founders Natalia Kaliada and Nicolai Khalezin were close family friends of Andrei Sannikov, the leading opposition candidate everyone expected to win the presidency if the elections were even remotely fair. That did not happen. Although tens of thousands of protestors demonstrated on Liberty Square, the regime responded with violence, imprisoning Sannikov and six other opposition candidates.

Fortunately, most of the BFT were able to evade the KGB (yes, they retained those charming initials), ironically fleeing through Russia. However, the time away from their homeland and families takes a toll on them. The only way they know how to process it is through their art.

Classifying the BFT is a tricky proposition. Many of the productions Sackler documents are distinctly avant-garde, rather closely akin to the style of Poland’s formerly dissident Theatre of the Eighth Day. Yet, sometimes their performances are painfully intimate and achingly accessible. Frankly, the film’s most intense and devastating sequence does not feature the brutal violence unleashed by the KGB (though there is a good deal of that and it is truly appalling). Instead, a monologue written by featured actor “Oleg” relating the non-political circumstances surrounding a personal tragedy truly leaves audiences emotionally staggered.

Nevertheless, when performing under a regime that prohibits open discussion of mental health, suicide, drug use, and sexuality, the personal becomes perversely political. Sackler and her editors Anne Barliant and Leigh Johnson show Solomon-like judgment, perfectly balancing the political and the artistic, the national and the individual, the macro and the micro.  A heck of a lot of courage went into the making of Dangerous Acts, starting with the BFT, but also including the Belarusian cinematographer Sackler directed via Skype and the small army of eye witnesses and netizen-journalists who contributed protest-crackdown footage.

To her credit, Sackler has tackled some bold subjects, following up her first-rate charter school documentary, The Lottery, with the censorship-defying Dangerous Acts. As a result, she might be one of the few people who can say which is more ruthless protecting their power, Lukashenko or the New York teachers union. Both tell critically important stories, but Dangerous Acts has even more urgency. Highly recommended for all lovers of liberty and advocates for human rights, particularly on the weekend we celebrate our independence, Dangerous Acts Starring the Unstable Elements of Belarus premieres Monday night (7/7) on HBO, with further air dates scheduled for 7/9, 7/10, 7/13, 7/16, 7/19, and 7/25.

LFM GRADE: A

Posted on July 5th, 2014 at 2:43pm.

By Joe Bendel. Glenn Miller had more number 1’s than either Elvis Presley or the Beatles. At the peak of his success, he made considerably more in an average week than most Americans could hope to earn in a year. Yet, he voluntarily signed up to serve his country during a time of war. Although he was never assigned to combat, Miller ultimately died in the service of his country, but the details remain murky. The circumstances surrounding his final fateful flight get a TV looking-over in The Disappearance of Glenn Miller, the latest installment of History Detectives Special Investigations, airing Tuesday on most PBS outlets.

Even (or particularly) amongst swing die-hards, Miller is a divisive figure, with fervent champions and detractors. However, there is no denying his popular success or his patriotism. The sacrifices he made for the latter are especially impressive given the former. Capitalizing on his stature, Miller was tasked with leading an Army Air Force Band that played morale-boosting concerts for the troops.

To prepare for the first concert in newly liberated Paris, Miller hitched a ride on a single-engine Norseman prop plane across the English Channel, but it never arrived in France. Essentially, three theories emerge: accidental causes (small plane plus bad weather is never a good combination), friendly fire, and the straw man of assorted conspiracy theories.

Evidently, there have been a lot of weird hypotheses hatched regarding Miller’s disappearance that all three host-investigators are quick to dismiss. However, they note in passing Miller’s connection to another celebrity officer, David Niven. Re-enlisting after the outbreak of war, Niven was apparently a real deal commando before his transfer to the propaganda unit, where it seems he may or may not have had dealings with the intelligence service. Frankly, his wartime experiences would make a terrific movie, but who could possibly play Niven? Of course, Jimmy Stewart played the bandleader in The Glenn Miller Story, seen briefly during this episode.

The three on-camera “History Detectives” (a lit professor, an auctioneer, and a sociologist) do a nice job explaining the technical details of the Norseman and the potential friendly fire misadventure, but they never really put Miller in his full musical context. Louis Armstrong loved his recordings, but many swing connoisseurs found his bands way too “sweet.” Indeed, it is doubtful Milller would have been the secret weapon for winning over Germany’s underground Swing Kids, as they suggest. Goodman or Ellington would have been far more effective. Still, a psych-ops unit probably had to make do with whatever bandleader they had handy.

Unfortunately from a dramatic standpoint, the verdict is decidedly anti-climatic, pretty much confirming our most prosaic suspicions. The hosts’ chipper, “happy news” style transitional conversations (“that’s fascinating, keep us posted”) also quickly get tiresome. Nevertheless, it is just nice to see some primetime television devoted to the iconic bandleader. Regardless of your feelings for his music, he was a great American. Why not listen to some of his Army Air Force Band recordings this Independence Day weekend and if you are still curious about his mysterious fate – and otherwise check out The Disappearance of Glenn Miller this coming Tuesday (7/8) on PBS’s History Detectives.

Posted on July 5th, 2014 at 2:32pm.

By Joe Bendel. Oddly, nobody actually says the word “Beatles” in their first movie. It’s not like anyone needed to. It was clearly emblazoned across Ringo’s bass drum. Of course, just about everyone knew who they were. Beatlemania was already a full-fledged phenomenon that would be even further stoked with the initial release of Richard Lester’s A Hard Day’s Night. Digitally restored by Janus Films in time for its fiftieth anniversary, Lester’s iconic introduction to the band re-releases this Friday at New York’s Film Forum.

If you are still trying to figure out if the four lads from Liverpool were mods or rockers, you will not get a straight answer in AHDN, but that is all part of its charm. Instead, the Beatles just sort of be themselves as they gracefully deal with the challenges of superstardom, while trying to keep Paul’s grandfather out of trouble (his other grandfather). They run from hordes of screaming fans, play sound-checks, accidentally get arrested, and generally riff off each other. It is all still breezy fun fifty years later thanks to the wit and easy charm of Alun Owens’ screenplay and the Beatles themselves.

Looking back at AHDN, it is remarkable how profoundly it shaped our perceptions of the Beatles’ personas: George is the cerebral one, John is the snarky one, Paul is a bit of a pushover, and Ringo is a goof. It also established a deceptively easy formula that has proved exceedingly difficult to emulate, as a host of meet the band box-office duds proved (Spice World, anyone?). To be fair, it is hard to compete with enduring original songs like the title smash hit, “All My Loving,” “And I Love Her,” “I Should Have Known Better,” and “She Loves You.”

Lester and the Fab Four also had a not-so-secret weapon in veteran comedic character actor Wilfrid Brambell, who was then nearly as recognizable as the Beatles from his leading role in the hit sitcom Steptoe and Son (remade in America as Sanford and Son). He has a way of mugging that seems rather dryly amusing. He also demonstrates perfect timing playing off the Lads. Likewise, Neil Aspinall and Mal Evans do a Mutt-and-Jeff routine as characters based on the Beatles’ personal assistant and road manager that nicely balances broad rubber-faced comedy with a kind of hyper-real sense of what it must have been like to ride the Beatles whirlwind.

AHDN provides a time-capsule of mid-1960s London, where you could buy milk from vending machines and television broadcasts involve transistors and dials. Yet, it still feels fresh and unspoiled. It is rather mind-boggling to suggest this, but AHDN would be a fine way for parents to introduce their children to the Beatles, because despite their mischievous inclinations, they essentially come across as good kids. More importantly, it is just funny in a good-hearted way and rocks (innocently and politely). It is a true classic that looks and sounds great after Janus’s careful 4K restoration. Highly recommended for any serious film lover, A Hard Day’s Night opens this Friday (7/4) at Film Forum.

LFM GRADE: A

Posted on July 1st, 2014 at 11:50pm.

By Joe Bendel. The conquest of Mt. Everest is considered the final crowning achievement of the British Empire, but it was successfully completed by a New Zealander and a Nepali (or possibly Tibetan) Sherpa. It was a nearly impossible climb with early 1950s gear – that was further complicated by the odd logistical error here and there. However, Sir Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay were part of a generation that refused to substitute excuses for success. The story of their summiting is recounted and recreated in Leanne Pooley’s 3D documentary Beyond the Edge, which opens this Friday at the IFC Center.

Before Hillary joined Colonel John Hunt’s 1953 expedition, the Everest statistics told a grim tale: “thirteen deaths and no summits.” Hillary, an unassuming bee-keeper, was one of only two New Zealanders in Hunt’s party, but he truly looked like a mountaineer. He also had the skills and the drive to for the final push. Unlike most of his Sherpa colleagues, Tenzing Norgay also had a climber’s ambition to summit—and summit first. Like good Survivor contestants, they sized each other up, recognized their compatibilities, and formed an alliance. Soon they were a team, hustling to establish a path through the dreaded icefall to impress Hunt.

Yes, there will be setbacks and complications. One of the strangest aspects of Beyond is the way its vocabulary more often evokes horror films than National Geographic specials. There are references to the “Death Zone” immediately below the summit and the “stench of death” asserting itself even before that stage. Nevertheless, Beyond is visually awe-inspiring. The 3D adds depth, but is not absolutely necessary—the spectacle of the Himalayas does not need punching-up. For her hybrid approach, Pooley seamlessly integrated restored 16mm color footage shot by the Hunt expedition with dramatic recreations mostly filmed in New Zealand’s Southern Alps. Just watching the immersive visuals will make viewers feel chilly and light-headed.

There is also plenty of expert commentary in Beyond, but Pooley eschews the traditional talking head approach, opting instead for disembodied voice-overs, sort of like Room 237, except her professionals are insightful and experienced Everest veterans rather than cracked eccentrics. The enthusiastic participation of Hillary’s mountaineering son Peter and Tenzing Norgay’s son Norbu Tenzing also adds apostolic credibility.

Mountain climbing sequences used to be where movies went to die (MST3K’s “rock climbing” riffs for Lost Continent pretty much said it all), but documentaries somehow managed to crack that nut. Like Nick Ryan’s K2 doc The Summit before it, Beyond is tight, tense, and very cinematic. Yet, instead of a tragic cautionary tale of reckless overreach, Pooley’s film celebrates courage, ambition, and sheer will power. No mere Discovery Channel special, it is much more dramatic and entertaining than you would expect. Highly recommended for sporty audiences, Beyond the Edge opens this Friday (7/4) in New York at the IFC Center.

LFM GRADE: B

Posted on July 1st, 2014 at 11:45pm.