Category: Documentary

By Joe Bendel. It is largely assumed the Samizdat tradition that fueled intellectual dissent behind the Iron Curtain was entirely nonexistent in Maoist China. That was mostly, but not one hundred percent entirely true. There was one journal that accurately reported the world as it truly was. Its print runs totaled somewhere around the twenty copy range—as in two-zero—but that was still more than sufficient for the Communist Party to crackdown hard on its editorial staff. Their remarkable stories of dissent are documented in Hu Jie’s Spark, which screens as part of Cinema on the Edge, the retrospective tribute to the Beijing Independent Film Festival.

The four primary writer-editors were all students, mostly from different cities, who had been labeled “Rightists” during the last bout of state-sanctioned insanity. They were all therefore highly vulnerable to whatever punitive measures the Party might unleash, but they were not planning to hand out Spark on street corners. They envisioned sending it to an elite, enlightened few within the Party bureaucracy, who might be in a position to foster reform. Alas, their naivety contributed to their sad fate.

Spark really did start with “innocent” intentions, with respects to Party authority. Shocked by the bodies literally piling up in the streets as a result of famine induced by the Great Leap Forward, the Spark core group assumed their local officials were merely applying national policy in an incompetent manner. However, as they ventured to other provinces and made contacts, they discovered the situation was just as dire everywhere else. Nevertheless, the Party and its flunkies insisted there was nothing wrong. Spark called them out on it and they paid a fearful price. They were not alone though. The sympathetic local headman and suspected “Rightist” Du Yinghua, a Party member since before 1949, was also fatally purged.

The story of Spark is truly bombshell material, but Hu, China’s underground Claude Lanzmann, makes no concessions to style. It can be dry and slow-going at times, but then there will be scenes that make your hair stand on end. We see live-on-tape as one of Hu’s interviews is cut short by a call from the local Party bosses. We also hear surviving Spark staffer Xiang Chengjian admit he thought he was essentially sacrificing his life for the sake of the truth.

Hu demonstrates how dangerous it is to preserve history when you live under a tyrannical regime. Yet, he has made it his calling with films like Spark and the more accessible and grabbier Though I Am Gone. Of course, his work is all connected, chronicling interrelated historical incidents. Clearly, he must work outside the system and faces opposition from the Party apparatus, so the Beijing Independent Film Festival deserves tremendous credit for programming his documentaries. Very highly recommended, Spark screens this Saturday (9/12) at UnionDocs, as part of Cinema on the Edge.

LFM GRADE: A-

Posted on September 10th, 2015 at 11:14pm.

By Joe Bendel. After being kidnapped from Ukraine and illegally imprisoned in Russia, Oleg Sentsov was just sentenced to twenty years, even after his accusers in Putin’s kangaroo court recanted their testimony. Sentsov is famous, so just think what is happening to the less well-known Ukrainian civic leaders rounded-up Gestapo-style by Russia. Pavel Yurov does not have to imagine. The Euromaidan-supporting playwright was tortured and imprisoned by Russian-backed separatists for seventy days. Yurov is one of many young Ukrainians who tell their stories in Andrew Tkach’s Generation Maidan: a Year of Revolution and War, produced in conjunction with the Ukrainian Babylon’13 filmmaking cooperative, which screens during the 2015 Portland Film Festival.

In late 2013, Ukrainians of all walks of life finally tired of the corrupt Yanukovych regime when the elected autocrat pulled out of negotiations with the EU to curry favor with his Russian patrons. Initially, a small group of protestors gathered in Maidan Square, but the outrage caused Yanukovych’s harsh response would ultimately attract hundreds of thousands of peaceful protestors. This process would repeat. Tragically, Yanukovych would use every dirty trick in the book against the movement, before settling on undisguised brute force.

There is no question the Maidan protests were a confusing time, but Tkach does an excellent job of establishing the historical timeline, step by step, while also capturing a visceral sense of what it was like to be under fire from Yanukovych’s notorious riot police, the Berkut. Some footage is absolutely jaw-dropping, such as the incident in which a genuine Maidan protestor placed himself between the armored Berkut line and a gang a balaclava donning agent provocateurs, “attacking” the police to provide them a phony justification for a full scale crack-down.

Sadly, the Western media has been too prone to accept these crude manipulations peddled by the Russian state media, but such video helps set the record straight. Unfortunately, the subsequent war precipitated by Russia and its separatist clients constitute even murkier waters for media, due to the nature of civil wars. However, anyone should be able to understand the implications of Yurov’s harrowing experiences.

Like Dmitriy Khavin’s Quiet in Odessa, Generation Maidan constitutes real reporting from Ukraine at a time when it is in short supply. It also captures the spirit of the Maidan movement, on personal, cultural, and generational levels. Perhaps the character of Maidan is best represented by Alexandra Morozova, who tirelessly played piano to raise the morale of Maidan activists. Fittingly, her music also serves as the film’s soundtrack, giving it a great deal more class than your typical battlefield dispatches.

Clearly, Tkach and his crew put themselves in harm’s way to tell these stories. In fact, his cameraman recorded the first Maidan death while he himself was receiving medical treatment. (Of course, it is much easier to just repurpose a Russian press release from the hotel bar.) Their images of state-sanctioned brutality and military aggression will make your blood run cold, but the resolution of young, idealist Ukrainians is inspiring. It is also worth noting all proceeds from the documentary will go to the Ukrainian Prosthetic Assistant Project. Highly recommended, Generation Maidan screened at this year’s Portland Film Festival, where it just had its American fest debut.

LFM GRADE: A-

Posted on September 6th, 2015 at 8:00pm.

By Joe Bendel. On September 11, 2001 Jason Thomas only thought of himself as a U.S. Marine called to serve. That meant he did not hand out a lot of business cards and he certainly did not negotiate any back-end deals. As a result, Thomas’s identity remained a mystery for years after he spear-headed the dramatic rescue of two Port Authority Police Officers trapped in the rubble with another former Marine. His long untold story gets the right treatment in Steve Humphries’ British-produced 9/11: the Lost Hero, which premieres this coming Tuesday on Discovery’s Destination America.

Sgt. Thomas was no longer on active duty, but he still had his uniform in his trunk. When dropping his daughter at his mother’s house (as previously planned), Thomas heard the news of the terrorist attacks. Without hesitating, he donned his uniform and headed into the city, like a very human superhero.

Through happenstance, there is some rather remarkable primary-source video of Thomas rushing towards the World Trade Center site. There is no question he was there. For hours, he helped first responders tend to the wounded, but he really wanted to search for survivors amid the wreckage. Eventually, he and former Staff Sgt. Dave Karnes did exactly that, ignoring all warnings to avoid the unstable debris. Tragically, there did not seem to be any survivors to rescue, only remains to secure, until they heard a faint cry for help. That was Will Jimeno buried deep beneath them, with fellow officer John McLoughlin trapped well below him.

Talking at great length in Lost Hero, Jimeno unreservedly credits Thomas and Karnes for their survival. It was indeed quite the tense operation, chronicled by Humphries with step-by-step precision. Yet, for years Jimeno was unable to properly thank Thomas—though not from a lack of trying.

Thomas might be the only man to draw breath that was ever able to get Oliver Stone to make an apology. In retrospect, it must be rather embarrassing for him to have cast a white actor to play Thomas in World Trade Center, which largely focused on their rescue efforts. However, the release of the film became the catalyst for Thomas finally receiving proper recognition. Although Humphries is rather circumspect addressing the issue, it is also pretty clear Thomas wrestled with post-traumatic stress during the years immediately following 9/11, until he finally started discussing his experiences with his family. Indeed, his story is helpful, instructive, and inspiring in a number of ways.

The vivid, visceral recollections of Thomas and Jimeno really give viewers a tactile sense of their fateful encounter. There is also quite a satisfactorily uplifting conclusion to it all. Somehow, September 11th has gone back to being just another day for a lot of people, so Lost Hero is a necessary reminder of the enormity of the attack and the heroism of the response. Highly recommended, 9/11: the Lost Hero airs this coming Tuesday (9/8) on Destination America.

LFM GRADE: A

Posted on September 4th, 2015 at 8:47pm.

By Joe Bendel. For many Country Music isn’t what it used to be. Sales might be stronger than ever, but the new breed of blow-dried pop acts simply lack authenticity. However, Tomi Fujiyama is the real deal. She was Country before Country was cool—in Japan. She even played the Grand Ole Opry in 1964, when it was still broadcast from the hallowed Ryman Auditorium. She would love to have a return engagement, but the current group of squares in charge apparently lack vision. Nevertheless, she continues to pursue her Country dreams in Josh Bishop’s Made in Japan, which screened during the 2015 Portland Film Festival.

Tomi Fujiyama has had more than her share of career setbacks, yet remains astonishingly upbeat and energetic. She initially cut her teeth playing American music in U.S. military base clubs, quickly figuring out what styles generated the most tips. Although there were plenty of folks in the music industry only too happy to take advantage of her, at least one American cat was willing to take the time to work on her pronunciations. As a result, her singing voice is something else. When carrying a tune, she has almost perfect diction and a surprisingly deep and resonant tone. Frankly, she owns “Tennessee Waltz,” pure and simple.

Returning to America with her quietly indulgent husband, Fujiyama revisits the sites of her eventful days playing Nashville and Vegas, while campaigning for another Opry gig. Not to be spoilery, but the Opry Entertainment management just didn’t get it. Instead, Fujiyama is embraced by a younger, hipper new traditionalist movement thriving outside the Opry establishment.

Bishop’s experts cogently explain the fractures in contemporary Country music, while also providing full historical context, way back to the music’s roots in English sea shanties and murder ballads. Elijah Wood also handles the narrator duties with clarity and what sounds like affection. However, there is no question Fujiyama is the engine that makes the film go. Her charm and charisma are undeniable, but it is her voice that will get you. She can hold a room full of No Depression-reading music snobs absolutely transfixed with her renditions of traditional Japanese folk songs.

Even if Made did not quite have the ending Bishop and Fujiyama’s friends hoped for, it will still give you a nice warm feeling. (Nevertheless, if you think its lame the Opry has not booked her yet, drop them a line here and ask them why. They would definitely like to hear from you. That’s why they provide a method to give feedback.) Sweet and entertaining, Made in Japan would make an intriguing double bill with Banjo Romantika. Very highly recommended, Made in Japan screens next at the Calgary International Film Festival, following its West Coast premiere at this year’s Portland Film Festival.

LFM GRADE: A-

Posted on September 3rd, 2015 at 5:14pm.

By Joe Bendel. Wars have been fought to end slavery, but the cruel trade in humanity still flourishes internationally. Unfortunately, it is hard to take macro military action when neighbors and family members are the ones selling future generations into slavery. Guillaume Suon and co-writer-assistant director Phally Ngoeum examine human trafficking in Cambodia from three uncomfortably intimate perspectives in The Storm Makers, produced and “presented” by Academy Award nominee Rithy Panh, which premieres this coming Monday on PBS as part of the current season of POV.

The titular Storm Makers are the human traffickers who barnstorm through provincial villages, luring the young and unemployed into bondage with false promises. Their victims are predominantly but not exclusively women, much like Aya. It was her own mother, perhaps half-knowingly, who sold her into slavery. However, like a flesh-and-blood ghost, Aya returned with stories of harrowing sexual abuse and a toddler, who was the product of repeated rapes. It has not been a happy homecoming for either woman.

In some ways, Aya’s mother is not so different from Ming Dy, who works as a “tout” recruiting girls from neighboring villages. She also sold her own daughter, which has irrevocably poisoned her relationship with her outraged Buddhist husband. Suon and Ngoeum follow the food chain up to Pou Houy, an unrepentant Storm Maker and massively hypocritical evangelical Christian. His “employment agency” is a transparent front for trafficking, yet he has a steady stream of walk-in victim-clients. Perhaps the most shocking aspect of Suon’s film is just how many people knowingly take a very bad gamble, simply because they see no other options.

Storm Makers is a quietly observational talking-head-free-zone, but it captures enough evil in action to make anyone’s blood run cold—provided they are of good conscience. Suon and Ngoeum make it agonizingly clear just how corrosive a problem trafficking is in the long term, even for a relatively “lucky” survivor like Aya. In fact, the damage wrought to her psyche will knock you back on your heels.

Frankly, it is a little baffling how a film produced and blessed by Panh (who helmed the Oscar nominated The Missing Picture) never secured a high profile festival screening in New York, even though it snagged awards at Full Frame and Busan. Regardless, hats off to POV for programming it. Yet, screenings and broadcasts of Storm Makers are even more desperately needed in Cambodia, as well as Thailand, Malaysia, and Taiwan, where so many trafficked Cambodians end up.

This might sound wildly eccentric, but perhaps the Cambodian government’s time would be better spent cracking down on traffickers like Pou Houy than censoring and campaigning against soon-to-be-forgotten Hollywood movies like No Escape. Of course, there is no way the illicit trafficking trade could thrive for so long without plenty of high level people looking the other way. While Storm Makers can be unsettling to watch, it holds viewers riveted in a vice-like grip. Guaranteed to inspire outrage and diminish your appraisal of human nature (so therefore highly recommended), The Storm Makers debuts on POV this coming Monday (8/31).

LFM GRADE: A-

Posted on August 27th, 2015 at 9:15pm.

By Joe Bendel. If you expected class distinctions would vanish in Hong Kong after re-integrating with the Mainland, reality has been profoundly disappointing. For many, the only significant change is the undemocratic governance mandated by Beijing. Last fall, thousands of HK students protested for the right to hold legitimate elections. Simultaneously, a group of disadvantaged HK high school students discovered potential they never knew they had when they were selected to stage a professional musical theater production. Six of their fellow students were also recruited to document their behind-the-scenes drama. None of them were activists, but their efforts to assert control over lives and futures takes on unintended symbolic implications in Oscar-winner Ruby Yang’s My Voice, My Life, which opens this Friday in New York.

In Hong Kong, there is a rigid hierarchy among secondary schools. Underperforming students at the last chance “Band 3” schools are often looked down upon by their peers and their elders, but their employment prospects are still better than those facing graduates of the Ebenezer School for the Visually Impaired. Of course, the latter students recruited for the awkwardly named L plus H Creations Foundation’s production of The Awakening (featuring a conspicuously Les Mis-ish sounding finale) are by far the most reliable during the early days of rehearsal. There will be a pretty steep learning curve for the other kids, both musically and personally.

Frankly, it was not always clear whether the production would really come together. In Coby Wang, they had a lead with all kinds of natural talent, but her acute lack of confidence prevents her from realizing her diva potential. More problematic are the troublemakers who undermine discipline and unity with their antics. Yet, as the rehearsals progress, the hardest cases start to realize their fellow students are relying on them to get it together.

Yang (who was last nominated for the short David-and-Goliath doc, The Warriors of Qiugang) and editor Man Chung Ma are extraordinarily dexterous juggling the various students’ and their backstories. Viewers really get a fully developed sense of at least eight or nine of the cast-members, while also meeting an assortment of parents, teachers, and theater professionals, which is quite an impressive feat of screen-time management in a ninety-one minute film.

None of these kids are bad per se. Some have just been living down to low expectations. Fortunately, several are extremely charismatic, while nobody in their right mind could root against the earnest Ebenezer students. Clearly, Andy Lau agreed. The HK superstar and former bad kid saw something of himself in the Awakening cast-members, so he hit the Hong Kong publicity circuit on the film’s behalf, making it an unexpected box-office success.

Of course, their story does not end here, but at least Voice gives us reason to suspect there is much more to come from its subjects (especially since they are now so well known to Lau). Frankly, they sort of cry out for the Seven Up treatment. Regardless, they deserve a chance to pursue a higher education and real career opportunities. Likewise, they ought to be able to vote for the politicians of their choice. At least Yang’s documentary should help with the former. Recommended for idealistic musical theater fans, My Voice, My Life opens this Friday (8/28) in New York, at the Cinema Village.

LFM GRADE: B

Posted on August 25th, 2015 at 2:59pm.