Showing posts with label Hot Docs 2012. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hot Docs 2012. Show all posts

Thursday, 12 December 2013

THE PUNK SYNDROME - Review By Greg Klymkiw - Finally Opens Toronto: SEE IT THEATRICALLY OR DIE, MO-FO!!!


Two fresh viewings of this phenomenal rock-doc have prompted me to reassess my star rating and boost it from **** to *****. The film is not only superbly crafted, but its subjects are hardcore punks who embrace the anger-charged musical form to create the most phenomenal insight into what it means to be mentally disabled and forced to live in a world of fluorescent lighting, rigid control, shitty food and seemingly random rules as prescribed within the cold, institutional world of their homes for life. This opens theatrically in Toronto at the Magic Lantern Carlton Cinemas via Kinosmith and it MUST be seen theatrically. Hopefully more cities will follow before it's released (hopefully) to Blu-Ray.

The Punk Syndrome (2012) *****
dir. Jukka Kärkkäinen & J-P Passi
Starring: Pertti Kurikka, Kari Aalto, Sami Helle, Toni Välitalo

Review By Greg Klymkiw


"Pertti Kurikka’s Name Day" is, without question, one of the greatest punk bands of all time. They are the unforgettable subjects of The Punk Syndrome, a breathtaking feature documentary that declares: "I demand your immediate attention or you die, motherfucker!" I'm somewhat ashamed to admit I had never heard of the band before. Now, I'll never forget them! Neither will you. This quartet of hard-core, kick-ass, take-no-fucking-prisoners sons of bitches pull no musical punches. They slam you in the face with repeated roundhouses - turning your flesh into pulpy, coarsely-ground hamburger meat. In true punk spirit, they crap on hypocrisy, celebrate a shackle-free life and dare your pulse not to pound with maniacal abandon.

The band is, of course, from Finland. This is the great land of the brown bear, the Capercaillie grouse and the nearly-extinct, but damned-if-they'll-go-down-without-a-fight Saimaa Ringed Seal - a country with one of the largest land masses and smallest populations in Europe that spawned the great glam group Hanoi Rocks, the brilliant hockey player Veli-Pekka Ketola and one of the world's greatest filmmakers, Aki Kaurismäki.

And now, Finland can boast of generating one the world's great punk bands, "Pertti Kurikka’s Name Day". With Pertti Kurikka's grinding lead guitar, Kari Aalto's powerhouse vocals, Sami Helle's muscular bass and Toni Välitalo on drums (a veritable punk rock Gene Krupa), this tight unit commands audiences with a power that borders on mesmerism.

Their songs - many of them ripped straight from Kurikka's diaries - take aim at government corruption, mindless bureaucracy and pedicures. Yes, pedicures!

Early in the film, Pertti Kurikka explains:
Writing a diary is important to me. I can release my anger. It is especially helpful to have a bad day. I’ll write in my diary that Pertti is a shithead, that Pertti is an asshole and that Pertti is a faggot and a shit-goddamn-asshole. Pertti will be stabbed. Pertti will be punched in the face. Pertti will be strangled to death.
Not every song the band sings spews venom, though. Giving a concert in a public square, the jaws of old ladies hit the ground, while young party animals hoist their fists in the air as the band extols the considerable virtues of mundane, but pleasant activities with the following lyrics:
It was a Sunday
I went to church
I had coffee
I took a dump
Three kick-ass chords and four glorious lines and we're hooked.

The movie follows the band from practising to recording, from jamming to performing, relationships with family, friends, fans and women. There are the usual creative differences between the band - some serious, and others, a bit more tongue in cheek. At one point, Kari complains to Kurikka, "When you write riffs for songs, don’t write such difficult ones. Write easy ones."


One of the most powerful sequences in the film, one that enshrines the picture as one of the truly great rock documentaries, is when the band plays a gig at a club in Tampere. The performance is mind-blowing and the audience is electric. The band sings:
Decision-Makers lock people up
In closed rooms
But we don’t wanna be in those rooms
Nobody looks after us
Nobody comes to visit us
What’s going to happen
To us orphans in those rooms?
Decision-makers cheat
Cheaters make decisions
They don’t give a shit
About us disabled
Decision-makers cheat
Cheaters make decisions
They don’t give a shit
About us disabled

In the dressing room after a truly intense performance, the band is triumphant. A beaming Kurikka declares, "This is as good as it gets".

And WHAMMO!

A breathtaking cut to a shot worthy of Ulrich Seidl - one that captures a terrible beauty of the character-bereft building the band lives in, a blue sky and a magic hour sun.

And yes, this is a band that writes and performs songs from the pits of their respective guts, from experience - their unique experience in the world as mentally disabled men.

Brave, passionate and talented men.

And yes, mentally disabled.

And they are so cool.

How cool?

They record their first single on vinyl.

That's how cool!

Just like this movie!

"The Punk Syndrome" opens theatrically December 13, 2013 via Kinosmith at the Magic Lantern Carlton Cinemas. If there is any justice in the world, it will play theatrically in many more Canadian cities before it is released to Blu-Ray. It's a movie that demands an audience!

Monday, 15 April 2013

AI WEIWEI: NEVER SORRY - DVD/Blu-Ray Review By Greg Klymkiw - Artist as Activist - One of last year's biggest hits at Hot Docs International Festival of Documentary Cinema is now available on DVD via Mongrel Media.


Ai WeiWei: Never Sorry (2012) ***1/2
Dir. Alison Klayman
Starring Ai WeiWei

Review By Greg Klymkiw

To have four days, four weeks or even four months of someone's life to capture personal and public moments for a documentary film can seem an imposition of slight to major proportions, no matter who the person is and however they might benefit from it. Then again, the more time a filmmaker spends with their subject, this surely demonstrates a considerable degree of faith, commitment and genuine interest in said subject and within that context, imposition of any sort usually takes a backseat.

Director Alison Klayman spent a period of four years to generate this intelligently structured portrait of Chinese artist Ai WeiWei and thanks to this commitment from both filmmaker and subject, the film is a fine window into the life of an artist celebrated worldwide.

And here's the good news - it's not earnest.

Documentaries on artists - more often than not - are plagued with a formal "quality" that renders them as little more than informational (or educational) tools, yet fraught with a fake enthusiasm and often dull narration in a British accent. (How's that for a generalization?)

Happily, Klayman's film gives us information, education, storytelling with a real filmmaking voice, one HELL of a story and a subject the camera absolutely loves. We see Ai WeiWei's method of working, creating, preparing, collaborating and mounting some of the most stunning works of art that one might never have a chance to see - save for on film.

Ai WeiWei himself is a delight - brilliant, funny and an impish rascal. "Charm" is his middle name and it's all genuine. He works it on everyone who populates the film (save for some idiot bureaucrats and cops) and he clearly is working it on the filmmaker and us.

Klayman provides public and private moments - the latter are especially revealing, poignant and often funny.

Most importantly, what happens to Ai WeiWei over the four years is the stuff that all artists in repressive regimes face and we get a first-hand account of how frustrating, paranoia-stricken and even dangerous it can be. The struggle is the story's engine - Ai WeiWei as a human being and his art are the layers. One of the more astounding activities he engages in is the utilization of social media to document his plight with the authorities all over the world. Capturing computer and iPhone action is never any easy feat, but Klayman wends it so seamlessly into the narrative that it's always a vital part of the tale.

Ai WeiWei: Never Sorry is a document for our time and will remain so until the sort of repression people suffer all over the world is wiped out. In this sense, the picture's universal.

"Ai WeiWei: Never Sorry" is available on Blu-Ray/DVD via Mongrel Media.






Thursday, 8 November 2012

THE WORLD BEFORE HER - Review By Greg Klymkiw

Award-winning doc The World Before Her opens theatrically


The World Before Her (2012) ****
dir.Nisha Pahuja


Review By Greg Klymkiw

Enrolled in a Hindu camp for women, Prachi icily declares that she'll kill (in self-defence) anyone who's against her religion.

"I am not a Gandhi supporter," she asserts from within this camp devoted to Hindu fundamentalism. "Frankly, I hate Gandhi."

Nineteen drop-dead gorgeous participants in the Miss India Pageant prep for a Bombay Times cover shot. "Oomph factor" is everything. "The look is sexy," says their coach. "Not bitchy."

What, then, is the future for the young women of modern India?

Is it adherence to thousands of years of subservient tradition or finding success through beauty? Is it deepening their love for the Hindu religion through rigorous paramilitary training or maintaining their ties to religion and culture while engaging in the exploitation of their sexuality? The chasm between these two polar opposites couldn't be wider and yet, as we discover in Nisha Pahuja's extraordinary and compelling documentary feature The World Before Her, the differences are often skin deep as parallel lines clearly exist beneath the surface.

All of this makes for one lollapalooza of a movie! Vibrant, incisive, penetrating and supremely entertaining, director Pahuja and her crackerjack team deliver one terrific picture - a genuine corker!

Seamlessly, and at times breathtakingly, we shift back and forth between the contestants of the Miss India Pageant training tirelessly within the walls of an urban Novotel for their shot at fame and fortune and the life of Prachi, firmly committed to a career - as she likes to call it - of serving her God, country and culture and preparing in the rural splendour of the Durgha Vahini training camp for young women.

Both groups of women must submit to the rigours of near-castigatory physical activity - albeit very different forms of it. Prachi learns the art of self defence - how to break a man's arm, how to stave off a knife thrust and turn the weapon against her opponent. The beauty contestants engage in punishing exercise regimens, not unlike the U.S. Marine-like maneuvers the Durgha Vahini women go through and are drilled in movement and precision: how to stand, how to walk. What our fundamentalists-in-training don't have to put up with are the hours of beauty makeovers - the most appalling of which are the burning sensations inflicted upon the beauty-queens-in-training during skin-lightening treatments. Ugh! As a fella, I even cringe at the thought of waxing.

For me, however, perhaps the most phenomenal footage in the entire movie are the differences in the relationships the two sets of women have with their parents. The mother and father of one beauty queen contestant are both so open, liberal, supportive and intelligent that their belief and pride in their daughter is deeply moving.

Prachi, on the other hand, is another story. Whenever her father opened his mouth my jaw kept thudding to the floor with such force and frequency, that if metaphor morphed into reality, I'd need to have major dental and periodontal surgery to restore it back into place.

Anyone who does to their kid what this guy does is an asshole. Yeah, yeah, yeah - it's a cultural thing! Big deal! Besides, a Hindu Holy Man I know had bestowed upon me the gift of an English translation of Hindu religious writings and I might be blind, but I sure don't remember anything in there like the following:

Prachi's evil clown of a father is seen sitting cross-legged, often with a smile on his face and his eyes raging with the fires of fundamentalism as he describes how he has been regularly beating his daughter for years in order to teach her right from wrong. Astoundingly, he admits that if his daughter had to engage in a Holy War and die for her religion, he'd be both happy and proud. He even infers that it would be okay in his books if his treatment was mirrored by a future husband.

When he proudly declares how he cured his daughter at age 12 from ever lying to him again, I came close to losing it completely. Daddy Dearest took a red hot iron from the coals and seared the flesh of his daughter's foot so that: (a) it would take weeks to heal and that every time she limped in pain, she'd remember how naughty it was to lie and (b) that the scar would be a constant reminder of her indiscretion.

I reiterate, my pal of the Hindu Holy Man persuasion, a respected Pandit (or as we often refer to him, Panditji) wished to provide me with a first-rate source of Hindu teachings and philosophies and after seeing The World Before Her, I scoured it religiously (so to speak) to find something resembling the idiocies spouted above.

Nada.

Sadly, when Prachi is interviewed about these events, she seems totally at ease with this - going so far as to blithely admit she prefers her Dad punching rather than slapping her since she's able to withstand the pain from the former and not the latter.

It must be all the military training she gets in the female terrorist camp.

As if I wasn't agog enough, Prachi admits that her father DESERVES to beat her because he let her live when she was born. You see, he considered murdering her as she was female, not male.

The film relates the stomach turning statistic that one million female babies in India are murdered every year due to the fact that male children are preferred. They're bread-winners. Women are, uh, parasites who need to be married off. Beyond some basic servitude, it seems they don't offer much anything else of value.

You know, I might have missed something, or maybe the English translation was off, but AGAIN, I really don't remember reading ANYTHING in the Hindu Holy Writings about murdering one's newborn daughter.

This is barbaric.

Prachi's story both parallels and contrasts wildly with the story of one beauty queen referred to in the film. Her mother was so disgusted that her husband wanted to murder their newborn daughter that she left him. The result, a beautiful, intelligent young lady who went on to claim the crown of Miss World India.

I have a few choice descriptive epithets for fathers like the aforementioned, but I'll allow my usual restraint in such matters to refrain from citing them here.

The bottom line is that The World Before Her is must-see viewing for everyone - men, women, sons, daughters - of all races, cultures, traditions and religions. My 11-year-old daughter watched the movie with me and I can't begin to express how profoundly it affected and touched her.

Even more extraordinary were her observations that: (a) the beauty pageant contestants were also beholden to men the way the "old-fashioned" women were and (b) that both sets of women were making their own choices in spite of being in a world where others want to make choices for them.

You know, I couldn't have said it better myself.

This is a revised review that appeared during the 2012 edition of the Hot Docs film festival. "The World Before Her" is now playing theatrically at the Bloor Hot Docs Cinema via Kino-Smith before rolling out on a platform release across Canada. For tickets and info visit the theatre's website HERE.

Saturday, 29 September 2012

BEAUTY IS EMBARRASSING - Review By Greg Klymkiw

Wayne White is the definition of COOL. This movie is about him. See it!
Beauty is Embarrassing
(2012) ****

dir. Neil Berkeley

Starring:
Wayne White,
Mimi Ponds,
Paul Reubens,
Mark Mothersbaugh,
Matt Groening

Review By
Greg Klymkiw


David O. Selznick, the greatest film producer of all time, crafted a huge body of tremendous work, but he always feared that after his death, he'd only be remembered as the man who produced Gone With The Wind. (Not really too bad a deal, Mr. Selznick.)

In any event, it seems to me that the contemporary American artist Wayne White might have shared a similarly obsessive career lamentation. You see, in spite of all his achievements as an artist, would his epitaph, in Selznick-like fashion ultimately emphasize that he was one of the primary creators and designers of Pee Wee's Playhouse and most notably, for me anyway, that he was the brainchild of my favourite Playhouse character, "Randy the Bully"?

Well, for my money, I watched Pee Wee's Playhouse every Saturday morning for several years as an adult (albeit as a purported grown-up with a major case of arrested development) and if this had been Wayne White's sole contribution to humanity, I'd have been delighted to doff my cap to him with a hearty, "Great job, champion fellow!"


Thankfully, a wonderful new movie now exists that dives headlong into the myriad of artworks White has created and continues to create. In Beauty is Embarrassing, we are exposed to this mad genius in all his glory - or rather, glories. Like some perverse cross-pollinated spawn of Georges Melies, Salvador Dali, Rene Magritte, Don Rickles, Henry Rollins, Spalding Gray, depression-era Ashkenazy junk collectors on the streets of Montreal (a la Ted Allan's "Lies My Father Told Me"), Guy Maddin ('natch), Drew Friedman and, lest we forget, that talented young banjo-picker in Deliverance, Wayne White has created an astounding body of work that is uniquely personal and provides an indelible portrait of an America laced with satire, laugh-out-loud funny humour and pure, unadulterated passion and imagination.


It's astounding to think that in the same year, Berkeley's portrait of White is unleashed upon the world along with the phenomenal Norwegian Pushwagner by August B. Hanssen and Even Benestadso - two films that are so geographically and culturally apart and yet, successfully deliver experiences that have the same goal - to joyously and delightfully celebrate art. Beauty is Embarrassing is one of the most entertaining and inspirational documentary portraits of an artist's process I've ever seen. So is Pushwagner. At some point, a double bill of these extraordinary works seems to be in order. This I assure you would deliver a cinematic fine art wet dream of staggering proportions.


Then again, why not just add Peter Watkins's epic Edvard Munch, Paul Cox's remarkable Vincent, Nik Sheehan's superbly crafted The Drawing Master, Ken Russell's clinically insane Savage Messiah and Guy Maddin's Odilon Redon or The Eye Like a Strange Balloon to the programme and you've got yourself a veritable electric Kool-Aid acid test of fine art on film.


A great deal of the credit for Beauty is Embarrassing's success must go to the extraordinary life, career and personality of its subject, Wayne White, a country boy raised in the great state of Tennessee who made the decision to take his talents to New York and then Los Angeles. Some might do so and "never look back", but White always looked back for inspiration and it's this strong sense of place, of memory, of reverence for who he is and where he's from which makes his work so rich.


Seen in archival footage - mostly home movies on film and videotape, and in interviews and live appearances, Wayne White is just so damn cool that it's impossible to take your eyes off the proceedings. He's the real thing with no airs and no pretensions. In fact, as a human being and artist, his cool quotient is only matched, and in fact, enhanced by his vast output as a designer, sculptor and painter during a period of over thirty years - art that the picture expertly details and wends through the narrative.


Now, much as I'm extolling the virtues of the film's subject, someone had to choose Wayne White to make a movie about, then shoot and conduct interviews so well that it inspired White to deliver a seemingly endless series of funny, insightful and touching responses.


Furthermore, someone had to assemble a fabulous cast of characters in White's life - from family to friends to colleagues - all of whom are so cool (especially White's Mom and Dad) that it must have been a nightmare going through the footage in the edit suite and deciding how much great stuff had to be turfed. After all, creating tight, compelling pictures that are going to have an important life - long after they've first been unleashed upon the world - is ultimately ALL about tossing fabulous material aside in service of the greater good.

Director Neil Berkeley and his team might be luckier than any of us on the end-user side in terms of all the time they spent with Smith and the other interviewees whilst shooting and cutting, but at the end of the day, they served up a cornucopia of delectable goods for our edification.

(I do, however, DEMAND that a Blu-Ray release include extended interviews, deleted scenes and, while we're stomping our tootsies, a hi-def photo gallery of White's art.)


Luckily for us, the audience, our feedbags are full of only the choicest of morsels. While we can envy the buffet table the filmmakers no doubt gorged themselves upon, we can ultimately thank them for their sacrifice to gluttony.


It allows us to dine, ever-so gracefully upon a Wayne White who is as passionately and meticulously crafted by the filmmakers for cinematic consumption as he, in turn, passionately and meticulously creates his art.

This movie is such a treat that I defy anyone to not be riveted throughout. Marvelling at this artist's great work, experiencing the ups and downs of his life, meeting all those who have been special to him and finally, in the movie's last few minutes, to have one's breath taken away by a sequence so joyous that you'll be squirting tears-a-plenty - these are but a few of the picture's considerable virtues.

Wayne White's art is bigger than life, but through the eyes of director Neil Berkeley, we see how White's approach to his own work is both humble and honest - kind of like Berkeley's approach to his subject.

A wise choice.

Too many filmmakers might have imposed overt stylistic flourishes to such pieces - the result of which, if done here, would have been overwhelming to a point of distraction. The film lets the artist (and his art) speak for himself (with a little help, of course, from his friends).

Euphoria is ultimately what comes to mind when recalling the effect the film has upon you. And that, cool cats, that is what they call style!

"Beauty is Embarrassing" is in nationwide release via KinoSmith. In Toronto it's playing at the Bloor Hot Docs Theatre. You should also visit Wayne White's website. It has lotsa cool shit on it. Some of it you can even buy! Click HERE

Wednesday, 1 August 2012

QUEEN OF VERSAILLES - Reviewed By Greg Klymkiw - The greatest mockumentary since "This is Spinal Tap", is ACTUALLY a bona fide documentary about the worst consumerist excesses in America and how the financial crisis transforms the lifestyles of a wealthy family into a cross between "The Beverly Hillbillies" and Luis Bunuel's "The Exterminating Angel". Opens theatrically in Canada on August 3 via Mongrel Media.


The Queen of Versailles (2012)

dir. Lauren Greenfield

***1/2

Reviewed By Greg Klymkiw

Jackie's a curvy blonde, with pouty lips, forever-and-a-day legs and Grand Canyon cleavage. In another age, this dazzling Miss Florida 1993 beauty queen would have fit most comfortably on the silver screen, clutching the arms of such celebrated fictional lugs as Moose Malloy, Johnny Prince or Fredo Corleone. In today's world, and in real life, she's the well-preserved 40-something trophy wife of America's timeshare Real Estate Mogul David Siegel.

If I didn't know otherwise, I might have thought that Lauren Greenfield's feature documentary The Queen of Versailles was, in fact, an intensely satirical mockumentary on consumer culture in America.

When we first meet the Siegel family in their gaudily ornate 26,000-square-foot Florida mansion, we're initially shocked at the tacky opulence of this cavernous love den that houses the 74-year-old self-made multi-billionaire Siegel and the insanely voluptuous woman who bore him seven children. We alternate between being agog and slapping our knees in raucous laughter.

As the film progresses, however, we get to like these people and their over-the-top lifestyle, especially when we're delivered considerable insight and background into their humble beginnings - their respective individual drive to achieve success. They've not been born with silver spoons hanging out of their mouths - they've both had to work for their right to accumulate. Jackie, in fact, put herself through university and earned an engineering degree before she began a modelling career. If they want to spoil themselves and their progeny rotten - all the power to them.

That said, there's something vaguely offensive and chilling when we discover that the nanny, who loves the Siegel children dearly, has not been home to the Philippines to see her own kids in years. Given her slavish devotion to this family, I kept wondering why the Siegel family, especially when things were going well, didn't think to cough up a drop in the bucket and bring her family over.

These occasional dark thoughts inspired by the film keep us anchored from completely rooting for these consumerist lovebirds.

And make no mistake - Jackie and David are clearly in love. It's especially poignant how the film captures them alone and together so intimately that we see how this is more than a marriage of convenience. She's no traditional goldigger and he's no wily, old dog looking for a trophy.

In spite of David's wealth when Jackie met him, it was a long and traditional romantic courtship and I have to admit there's something genuinely sweet about getting these details. And once they do get married, the movie verges on fairytale as we see them in photos and archival footage cavorting with presidents and movie stars.

We're also delivered the ins-and-outs of David's business empire. He's strictly independent and is the largest private owner of timesharing resorts in the world. Witnessing such dynamic entrepreneurship is, frankly, cooler than cool.

When things turn especially surreal is when we're introduced to the most insane aspect of this couple's American Dream. Inspired by the Palace of Versailles, the Siegels build the largest home in America.

It's 90,000 square feet and has 30 toilets.

'Nuff said.

Thankfully for director Greenfield, the financial crisis of 2008 hit everyone - including the Siegel empire. If it hadn't, the movie would definitely had worked as a curiosity piece, but when we start following this family as they are forced into a major austerity program, this truly becomes the stuff of great drama. The fairytale marriage starts to strain at the seams, the unfinished Versailles must be put up for sale and the banks begin to put the squeeze on David.

Once most of the servants are dismissed from the 26,000 square feet the Siegel family still lives in, the house turns into a cross between Jed Clampett's Beverly Hills mansion (transplanted back to the swamp in the Ozarks) and the bourgeois nightmare of The Exterminating Angel. The Queen of Versailles definitely shapes itself into some ultra-Bunuelian phantasm with dollops of Shakespearean tragedy.

This once spotless (albeit gaudy) mansion is now just plain gaudy and has so much filth piling up that I don't even want to imagine how this place started to reek like a cesspool. I believe this movie features more scenes involving dogs crapping and urinating indoors (as well as neglected pets just dying outright) than has ever or will ever exist.

Ditto for shots of doggie fecal matter lying about.

This is America!

With piles of dog shit soiling the crumbling remains of a once proud family of consumerist gluttons yields a movie that could easily swipe the tagline from Robert Altman's Nashville:

"The damnedest thing you ever saw!"

"The Queen of Versailles" opens in Toronto and Vancouver August 3 via Mongrel Media.



Friday, 20 July 2012

PEACE OUT - Review By Greg Klymkiw - This award winning documentary by Charles Wilkinson is a potent, powerful plea to end the madness of gluttonous energy consumption before it's too late for us and future generations.


Peace Out (2012) dir. Charles Wilkinson **** Reviewed by Greg Klymkiw

For most of the year I'm happy to say I live off the grid. The decision to choose an alternative to traditional electrical power was, at first, the almighty buck - the savings would be substantial. That solar energy was environmentally preferable to Hydro was the maraschino cherry on the hot fudge sundae of blowing those clowns off the grid. What a great way to say, "Fuck you, Hydro." Peace Out, a film directed by Charles Wilkinson and produced by Tina Schliessler, further opened my eyes to the genuine importance of my decision to go off the traditional energy grid.

This movie is all about energy and the horrible price we all pay for our hog-at-the-trough need for Hydro. The price, let it be said, is not just dollars and cents. The price is the rape of natural resources and the destruction of our environment. And the real need, beyond "our" need, is the need for corporations to do whatever they want to do in order to generate profits.

Wilkinson and Schliessler have rendered a powerful, persuasive and important film that focuses upon the environmental decimation of Canada's northwest. In northern British Columbia, the picture introduces us to the Peace River Valley - an area of (seemingly) pristine wilderness that drains a geographical area larger than most countries in Europe. To the naked eye in most of the area and certainly the picture's numerous stunning shots of the heart-achingly beautiful landscape, it comes as a major head-scratcher and double-take to discover that the industrial development with this northern paradise is not only firmly rooted within the topography, but is, in fact, shockingly vast.

Due to government planning (yes, I know, an oxymoron) and strategic corporate development (the real power, as opposed to either government or the general populace), it had been decided to build a major power dam within the Peace River area which would flood the valley and back up the river by over 80 kilometres (also affecting two other rivers. They'd each be backed up 10 to 20 kilometres).

The picture skillfully draws us into a miasma of academics, corporate lackeys, politicians and just-plain-folk who live in the valley and we're delivered the simple facts that power consumption in the cities to the south is so gluttonous that this new source of energy is a simple, unavoidable necessity.

But at what cost?

Southern British Columbia - particularly Vancouver - is currently powered by the Bennett Dam in Hudson Hope. This monstrosity has created the largest man-made reservoir on the planet. Corporate scumbags with the various energy corporations maintain that this is "clean energy". The reality is that the reservoir is a living desert of toxins.

David Schindler, Professor of Ecology at the University of Alberta emphatically states that reservoirs are not greenhouse-gas-free as many ignorant politicians believe and greedy corporate swine maintain. When flooded terrestrial vegetation starts to decompose, methane-producing bacteria is driven and released into the atmosphere. Methane gas is 20 times more potent than CO2 emissions and the result is mercury entering atmosphere which, in turn is fed back into the fish population - doubling and quadrupling the mercury levels.

This is the fate of the Peace River Valley if this assault upon nature is not stopped. Let's not even mention, though we shall, the fact that Peace River is a world class wildlife habitat which currently allows for natural connectivity between the northern to southern Rocky Mountains which all the animals use in their migration patterns. Flooding the valley will seriously impact the natural ebb and flow of these creatures, and possibly result in their death and/or total extinction from the region.

This is unacceptable. For now, however, the juggernaut of destruction cannot be stopped. We're ultimately the losers if this occurs. The winners will be corporate hogs who suck humanity and nature dry.

And much of this is our fault for requiring so much energy. In fairness to our own gluttony for energy, the film points out how it is indeed technologically possible to reduce energy - it happens all the time. That said, making devices energy efficient inspires a rebound effect wherein a multitude of devices are created to replicate these energy efficiencies in the production and use of more devices that draw even more energy - not to mention the energy required to manufacture them in the first place.

Who benefits? The corporations that design, manufacture and market these goods.

Government and business both maintain there is no choice but to rape the land since the demand for energy is so high amongst the general populace. The citizenry, in turn, refuse to reduce the incremental load requirements through energy efficiency.

One of the horrendous effects of destroying the Peace River Valley is, according to local farmers, the eventual loss of prime farm land to provide future generations of Canadians in British Columbia with food. Currently, most of BC's fruits and vegetables are imported from California and it's a fact that this will dwindle to almost nothing when America itself will face a growth shortage and be taking care of its own needs first.

The supply of food from California is not endless. Instead of destroying the environment, BC should take the lead in terms of self-sufficiency. Alas, one of the woeful statistics the film points out is that 80% of the food for the region used to be grown locally, but is now less than 7%. This is not only appallingly myopic, but there's zero attention paid to the monetary costs of transporting the food and most notably, the environmental costs of said transport.

Natural Gas companies maintain that they have the cleanest energy, but their record of pillaging nature is just as bad, if not worse than hydro electricity.

"It's greed," maintains Roland Wilson, Chief of the West Moberly First Nation. "They're making billions of dollars on oil and gas. They go into third world countries and kill people for the amount of money they're making up here."

Even more annoying is how all the power companies, like government, do little more than finger-point at each other in terms of whose rape of the land results in cleaner energy. Peace Out, ultimately proves this, but does so in a cool, collected and even balanced manner. We get a litany of indiscretions which are defended by the perpetrators.

Fracturing is, for example, a necessary evil in the extraction of natural gas, but requires an insurmountable amount of fresh water to do so. Chief Roland Wilson points how just one gas company will extract 10,000 gallons of water from Peace River. One company out of a multitude who are all doing the same thing.

We meet a local trailer camp owner who is the victim of a water shortage. We see one huge truck after another, barreling along the road outside her camp, all full of water extracted from Peace River. In the meantime, her well has run dry.

Even more staggering is that these for-profit companies are allowed to extract this water for free. The government (such as it is) allows these pigs to slurp up millions upon millions of cubic meters of publicly-owned water and doesn't charge ANYTHING for this. In this area alone there are thousands of natural gas wells using free water. In some cases a mixture of salt water and fresh water are used for fracturing and the corporate mouthpieces insist this is extremely "clean". When the saline escapes into the land, is this truly "clean"?

Our government is allowing corporations a free ride and worse yet, has no stringent regulations in place. The elected-powers-that-be prefer industry self-regulation. This has one academic in the movie laughing. He maintains that self-regulation never works. If someone is driving 120km in a 100km zone, are they going to self-regulate by pulling over and calling the police on themselves to ask for a speeding ticket? Of course not. So why would a corporation, entrusted by law to make profits for its shareholders, self-regulate when it's their job to save money at any and all costs. With no regulations, abuse is inevitable.

There are, of course, government inspectors, but in an area the size of the state of Nebraska, there are 1.2 such watchdogs.

Effective, yes?

Government is so ineffectual in such matters that permits are actually issued to companies for cross purposes in one location. A mining company is allowed to blast its way through rock with explosives in the same vicinity an energy company is extracting natural GAS. Last time I checked, gas and explosives are not a happy combination.

In the case of Peace River, the very remoteness is what contributes to the almost impossible task of promoting awareness and thus allowing, under the cover of being in the middle of nowhere, such intense and irresponsible levels of industrial activity.

And then there are the dirty hippie hypocrites who were children of the 60s - they're the ones who are aware of the risks, but they're also old and want to reap the benefits of their shares in energy companies. It's easy for them to acknowledge, but finally not care whether the environment is messed up. As a stock trader notes, these are the fake lefties who "want a comfortable life and don't care if 100 ducks died in the oil sands - they will not shun things that make money."

Shareholders and corporations think in the present. They have no long range plans save for amassing wealth. Industry itself is always driving up the demand for cheap power sources as they manufacture goods that the public needs to expend energy upon to operate in their ignorant bliss.

Peace Out takes you by surprise and leaves you breathless. At first, the filmmaking seems like rudimentary TV-doc-stuff, but as we dive further into Wilkinson and Schliessler's vital film, we're eventually a party to cinema of the highest order. Clever, subtle juxtapositions, smooth transitions between the beauty of nature, the destruction of the environment, the fluorescent-lit government and/or corporate offices, the dark, almost Gordon Willis styled shots of energy executives and in one case, an utterly heartbreaking montage of energy waste set to Erik Satie's Gymnopedie #1 - all of these exquisitely wrought moments and more, inspire sadness, anger and hopefully enough of these emotions will translate into inspiring action - even, as a Greenpeace interview subject suggests - civil disobedience.

Corporations will do nothing. Government will do nothing. The people have to do the right thing.

Time's a wasting, though. We need to fight for the right to a better world. If not, it's going to die.

Actions, as the film subtly suggests, speak louder than words. Images, as stunningly relayed by the makers of Peace Out, inspire, or can inspire change.

That said, it all begins in our own homes. We need to turn the lights off for a brighter future - to shine as a beacon to our children and their children that we didn't put ourselves first.

See this film.

Then do something.

I don't think it's too much to ask.

"Peace Out" is currently in platform release across Canada via Indie-Can Entertainment and Torontonians can see the film at The Bloor Cinema. For showtimes, info and tickets click HERE

Wednesday, 16 May 2012

BIG BOYS GONE BANANAS!* - Interview with Director Fredrik Gertten and Review By Greg Klymkiw - Stunning documentary in the tradition of American Paranoid Thrillers of the 70s is Now in theatrical release via Kinosmith. Coming soon to Vancouver after playing Toronto's Bloor Hot Docs Cinema and Hot Docs Film Festivals and The ByTown in Ottawa.

Filmmaker Fredrik Gertten and his war with DOLE

A Conversation With Fredrik Gertten
Director of
BIG BOYS GONE BANANAS!*


My full **** review, first published during
the 2012 edition of the Toronto Hot Docs Festival
is reprinted just below this feature story/interview.

By Greg Klymkiw

The feelings engendered by the great paranoid thrillers of 70s American Cinema are alive and well again - crackling with the same terror, dread and mounting odds against one man or a handful of individuals who are fighting oppressive, almost dystopian, virtually Orwellian dark forces.

The difference, though, is that our central figure is NOT Warren Beatty in Alan J. Pakula's The Parallax View, stumbling upon a corporation devoted to political assassination.

Our protagonist is NOT Donald Sutherland's Department of Health bureaucrat in Philip Kaufman's brilliant re-working of Don Siegel's Invasion of the Body Snatchers where under the creepy spire of San Francisco's Trans-America tower he battles the ultimate scourge upon the human race.

Nor are we watching Robert Redford and Dustin Hoffman playing Washington Post reporters Woodward and Bernstein in All The President's Men (Pakula again), skulking about dark underground parking lots in search of the truth behind the Watergate conspiracy.

The 70s paranoid thriller has, in fact, been reborn in Fredrik Gertten's stunning documentary feature Big Boys Gone Bananas!* and in spite of the title, and though the movie features absurdity of the most extreme kind, we are also not dealing with a Will Ferrell comedy.

This is a straight-up mystery thriller. That said, it's a true story. And what we see is what was actually happening to the film's central figure - Gertten himself - a documentary filmmaker embroiled in the dark, nasty manipulations of an evil corporate entity.

Fredrik Gertten, filmmaker, does not, however, consider himself an activist or a revolutionary or a political filmmaker. In a Skype conversation with the Swedish filmmaker, he made it very clear to me that his primary agenda is to tell good stories - END of story.

"My whole job as a documentary filmmaker was to get the feelings I experienced into my film," said Gertten. "Living the story intimately - to get these personal feelings out to my audience - this was the big challenge of doing the film. Evoking feeling should be the challenge of doing any film."

But this is not just any film. Big Boys Gone Bananas!* is a movie created out of the struggle which ensued after Gertten finished his documentary BANANAS!*, the harrowing tale of the Dole corporation's exploitation of Nicaraguan fruit workers. "This is not necessarily a controversial thing," Gertten asserts. Perhaps not, but there is controversy inherent in both works. In fact, beyond the Battle Royal between the poisoned migrant workers in the first film and the truth-seeker under attack in the second - both parties caught in a fierce struggle with one of America's hugest multinational corporations - I truly believe that we have in Fredrik Gertten something that all filmmakers should aspire to.

Gertten tells both stories with head-on commitment, but not the sort one normally associates with documentary filmmaking. "Filmmaking without passion is very boring even if the message is the right one," said Gertten. "I never considered myself as a political filmmaker or a campaign filmmaker or an activist. I might be a political person or an activist when I'm not on the job making films, but this is the thing - making a film is my job and I want to make a film that can travel into hearts and minds and that's something different. I never think 'Oh, I'm going to do something controversial.' That would be a stupid setup. I want to tell a good story. And of course I want to make this story hit people emotionally in ways that people can reflect upon their own lives and life itself."

Much as I think he would wince at the very thought, I personally consider Gertten's two most recent films to be acts of heroism. Both are great pictures and yes, they both tell great stories, but Gertten's stellar work as a storyteller is proof positive that all artists have the potential to be heroes.

Whether Gertten wants to believe it or not, he is to me, and no doubt many others, a hero.

The films work on two levels. Firstly, they're both supremely entertaining and represent filmmaking of the highest order. Secondly, and perhaps most importantly, they are - pure and simple - GREAT STORIES well told that have had, and will continue to have the power to effect change for the better.

Once Gertten completed BANANAS!*, he was poised to launch it to the world in competition at the L.A. Film Festival, but Dole reared its ugly head and not only sued the filmmaker, then copied their legal position to the film festival and all its corporate sponsors - including the L.A. Times. Scandalously, The Times published a horrendously slanted full page business article that presented ONLY Dole's point of view. More slanted media news reports followed and Gertten found himself in a position where the film festival was bowing to all the pressure that was being manipulated and fully orchestrated by Dole.

Gertten made his way to Los Angeles and decided to have cameras running in order to potentially capture Dole serving him with a summons. "A filmmaker is always making film," said Gertten. "As a documentary filmmaker, anytime I have a camera running, there is the potential to make a movie."

Personally, I was appalled that a film festival would allow itself to be swayed by Dole, a corporate giant so willing to go to any lengths to suppress the truth about its disgusting practices - nefarious activities which resulted in knowingly using a pesticide that caused sterility in the Nicaraguan workers.

During our chat, however, Gertten seemed far more charitable than I on this matter and suggested the festival was not necessarily questioning his work or integrity as a filmmaker, but in believing the Dole arguments wished not only to protect themselves, but Gertten - believing that he had been duped by his subjects into presenting blatant falsehoods as fact.

Honest to Christ!

I can't ever imagine being so gracious. I was even more appalled that all the major corporate sponsors of the film festival were swallowing Dole's rancid geysers of spurious cum so willingly, so greedily - especially since the sponsors included many leading lights of the entertainment business who should have been more than happy to rally in Gertten's defence.

Gertten, however, revealed to me that the corporate sponsors weren't all against him and notes that it was a clear 50/50 split in terms of those who wanted to back him and those who didn't.

As far as I'm concerned, the 50% who didn't support Gertten at the time are the lowest, bottom feeding scum - or in the words of the late, great, Johnny Cash - they're lower than a "dirty, old, egg-sucking hound."

The actions of Dole and the cowardice of the powers-that-purported-to-be, resulted in a cowardly compromise undertaken by the festival. They withdrew Gertten's film from official competition and presented it in the least flattering venue - along with a strong disclaimer presented by the festival director prior to the screening.

One of the things I was most curious about in this process was the fact that Gertten was able to fight Dole with the assistance of a powerful litigation lawyer. The cost of fighting such dark forces would normally be so cost-prohibitive to any independent filmmaker that Gertten admits to being thankful that Bananas!* had insurance in place for just such an occurrence.

Most people outside the film industry (and certainly even young, aspiring filmmakers) are completely unaware of the scourge/blessing called Errors and Omissions insurance. I personally detest that it even became a requirement of making films when it really reared its ugly head in the late 80s. Worst of all, it became de rigueur because of America - a country that increasingly became one of the most litigious empires in the world. In most countries outside North America - even to this very day - Errors and Omissions is not a requirement to secure production financing, distribution and broadcast sales. Alas, if one wants any penetration into the North American marketplace, it is an absolute must.

For me, Errors and Omissions was just another excuse to add more costs to making movies and to put money into the greedy pockets of lawyers and insurance companies. E&O is not cheap. The insurance is term-based, needs to be renewed at various intervals during the entire life of a film and in order for a company to even grant it to you, they will usually require that an approved list of lawyers examine every aspect of your proposed film to ensure there is nothing remotely litigious.

To my mind, E&O insurance is already an attack against free speech - an act of censorship that occurs even before a movie is made.

Worst of all, the insurance carries ridiculous deductibles. I asked Gertten if Bananas*! was especially difficult to clear for E&O. Surprisingly, the lawyers gave his film a clean bill of health with no exclusions whatsoever. The deductible, however, was utterly ludicrous. It was a standard $10,000 USD. In the scheme of things, this seems a low price to pay for all the legal fees if you do get sued, but ask any independent filmmaker how easy it is to come up with $10-grand to secure said legal services and you'll get another story altogether.

Like any insurance, once you make a claim - any claim - this affects one's future ability to get insurance at a reasonable cost and with a less usurious deductible. Gertten admits that securing affordable Errors and Omissions insurance on Big Boys Gone Bananas!* proved to be a huge ordeal. It eventually worked out, but the journey to even secure it was most arduous.

Thankfully it did.

Big Boys Gone Bananas!* is an important film!

HOWEVER, at the risk of turning audiences off and fucking Mr. Gertten over even more than he has been, allow me to stress that Big Boys Gone Bananas!* is must-see ENTERTAINMENT!!! It's thrilling, scary, absurdly funny and on a par with any of the aforementioned kick-ass 70s thrillers.

"I aim my films at everybody," said Gertten. "The problem is, of course, that if my films are running on CBC or other such broadcast outlets, people will see the short pitch and then say, 'Oh, that sounds boring.'" And yeah, the short pitches for Bananas!* (Nicaraguan fruit-pickers exploited by a corporation) and Big Boys. . . (filmmaker fights a corporation for the right to free speech) are definitely the stuff to turn off everyone but the already-converted.

Telling stories that carry such weighty issues can easily get lost in the shuffle and is always a challenge to get them seen by wider audiences. Gertten adds: "I've gotten amazing reviews for my film, but many of those same reviews will say 'This is a very important film'. Who wants to see an important film? People want to be entertained. Reviewers tend to underline the "important" stuff instead of talking about the storytelling - which is a bit frustrating."

Here though, I'll briefly thump my own tub, by revealing Gertten's feelings about my written assessment of his film when it first appeared during the Hot Docs 2012 Film Festival.

"I liked your review because you were passionate yourself when you wrote it," said Gertten.

I interjected by saying I wasn't only passionate when I reviewed his film, but pissed right off. One and the same thing, I guess, but nothing makes my blood boil more than corporate, oligarchical steam-rolling, the more fascistic elements of political correctness, censorship and the squashing of free-speech.

"Well," added Gertten, "Like I said, I get so many top grade reviews but many of them are very boring texts. I think that's a crisis for documentary films that the reviewers want to be so on the course with the subject matter rather than on the filmmaking. When people read that a film is important, they will sometimes even take that at face value. A critic tells a little bit about the story, goes blah-blah-blah about the issues and it ends up with people coming up to me and saying: 'Oh this was a very important film! Congratulations Fredrik!' I'll then ask, 'Have you seen the film?' And the response is often, 'Oh no, not yet, but you did a great job.' People forget that a film is not a tweet, its not an article, it's not a thesis or an op-ed. A film is actually an emotional experience. If you do a film well, it stays with you. And that's why we as filmmakers work so hard to tell the story."

Of course, the best stories, at their root ARE simple. It's the simplicity which yields layers of complexity. It's the twists and turns a story takes from a very simple premiss that delivers complexity. One of the things that always drives me crazy in either young filmmakers, or any filmmakers who have an agenda of commitment rather than the goal of a story well told, is that too many films - documentaries especially, but also dramas or even experimental works - have NOTHING but the layers. The layers are the "cool shit", but if they're not hanging from a solid structure, all you get are the layers.

The math is simple.

Layers - simple, solid structure = Shit.

Gertten essentially concurs. "Bananas!* is a very complex story, but the bottom line for me is very simple - we see the faces of the people who pick our bananas and we understand they have been suffering and now we wonder, 'What banana should I buy?' Big Boys Go Bananas!* is also a very complex story, but in the end, the bottom line is very simple - 'Are you in favour of democracy? Are you in favour of free media?' Well then, don't sue filmmakers. Don't suppress them with your P.R. machine. If you want to be a part of society, then respect the rules of society. This goes for any corporation. You can't talk about democracy and fight it at the same time - which Dole did with me."

But given - especially in North America - how media and journalism have become mere propagandistic mouthpieces for corporate powers, government and, if you will, the New World Order, I'm somewhat disheartened that audiences are getting used to a new brand of reportage and storytelling. I asked Gertten if he believes audiences even want to be told the truth.

"That's a very special question," he responds. He thinks on it a moment and then asserts: "Of course! I think people want the truth, but they also want to be entertained and that goes for all of us. Sometimes we get entertained by fake stories and a lot of stuff in the media right now is fake. That creates a very special challenge for filmmakers - especially documentary filmmakers. If we want to do films that can reach out to a mass audience, we have to make films that are as well done as traditional narrative-based dramas and all the other stuff. It has to be exciting. We also have to do films that are reaching out to people. On the other hand, I don't think that people are stupid and I know when people see my films nobody is left out."

Gertten asserts and reiterates that his films inspire more than "a few experiences that will stay with people. When they enter a grocery store they don't want to buy sprayed bananas or when they open a newspaper they ask if an op-ed has been planted by a P.R. firm. If my films can make that happen within people then that's great. But they have to see the film. It's not enough to read a tweet."

As much as I've compared Gerrten's contemporary documentary films to the great thrillers of the 70s, he's quick to note the stereotypical pigeon-holing of documentary filmmaking that was especially prevalent in the 70s and how there are residual effects of that even today.

"You don't have to be left wing to do documentaries" he half-jokes. "People can be right wing. They can be whatever they are. You can be commerical, you can be alternative. We are, finally, professional filmmakers. Documentary is a genre. We constantly work with a narrative arc. When we edit our films we use the same language dramatic filmmakers use to tell the story. It's classical knowledge and we use it."

Before wrapping up our conversation, I had one pressing question. Given that Gertten's storytelling skills are so strong and that his documentary work excels on the level of great thrillers, does he ever imagine tackling a straight-up narrative drama?"

His response was short, sweet and definitive.

"Actually, no."

Herewith is reprint of my **** review of
BIG BOYS GONE BANANAS!*
that I first published online during
the Hot Docs 2012 Film Festival:

Big Boys Gone Bananas!* (2012) dir. Fredrik Gertten ****

Review By Greg Klymkiw

In the summer of 2009 I became aware of a curious case wherein Fredrik Gertten, a documentary filmmaker from Sweden (along with his producing partners) was being sued by the Dole corporate fruit bats and that the Los Angeles Film Festival had yanked his film Bananas*! out of official competition and relegated it to a special screening.

The internet media coverage I read - even at the time - seemed slanted against the filmmaker and his expose of Dole's exploitation of fruit workers in Nicaragua. Sounded to me like the Dreaded Dole Dandies were irresponsibly and knowingly using pesticides that caused sterility in numerous men working the fields.

My response to this was typical - of me! I scoured the cupboards to see if there were any cans or packages with the Dole label. Thank Christ, there were none - nor were there any fresh fruits in the fridge.

I hate throwing out food, but I would have anyway. From that day on, I have never purchased anything with Dole's name attached to it. Without knowing more than the seemingly spurious accounts in the articles about the lawsuit, I sided with the filmmaker - AGAINST Dole.

They're a corporation, after all. A multi-national corporation at that. I simply have no use for such entities. As far as I'm concerned, they're all criminals - organized criminals.

What sickened me even more than the attack by Dole upon an artist's God-Given right to free speech was the appalling behaviour of the Los Angeles Film Festival (LAFF). A film festival - no matter how big, small or (in the case of the LAFF) inconsequential - has a duty to ALWAYS support artists. End of story. No arguments allowed. Anyone who disagrees can crawl back into whatever pro-censorship-anti-free-speech slime pit of fascism they crawled out of. Hopefully, I won't see you in Hell as I had to renounce Satan at my Godson Illya's christening some time ago.

So, I finally saw Bananas*! two weeks ago. It's a powerful, shocking and moving film about Dole's corporate irresponsibility to its own workers. (I'll review the film under separate cover here at KFC soon.) A few days later, I watched Gertten's new picture, Big Boys Gone Bananas!* and I am so happy he made this film.

From a personal standpoint, it says and exposes the truth behind everything I believe in about American (and by extension, Canadian) imperialist corporate culture - how most governments, politicians and bureaucrats are mere pawns and puppets in "democracies" that are little more than corporate-owned totalitarian states.

That mainstream media is becoming increasingly useless.

That the notion that free speech exists is drastically diminishing.

And last, but not least, the idiotic hoops a filmmaker must go through to protect themselves from nuisance suits launched by corporate scumbags.

All of this is simply beyond the pale.

Once he was slapped with a huge lawsuit from Dole, Gertten wisely began to document his struggle on film. What he captures is borderline surreal.

He and his co-producers go into research/confab mode immediately, but are also plunged into the nightmare of the LAFF threatening not to show the film. Dole, not only brought suit against Gertten and partners, but sent their claims to the festival itself and all of its corporate sponsors. (Many of these sponsors are a Who's Who of entertainment and media power brokers - shame on all of them for not lifting a finger.)

Every single newspaper of record began running huge articles about the lawsuit - slanting everything on the side of Dole, basically reprinting Dole's press releases and most egregiously, not bothering to check sources. They were bought and paid for, no doubt.

The LAFF did the most cowardly thing of all. At first they tried to appease Dole and came up with some solutions/options for Gertten which you really need to see the film to discover. You won't believe it if you just see it here in black and white. The festival's suggested appeasements all side with Dole and essentially would force Gertten to go against everything artistic expression stands for.

When the moronic suggestions were rightly rejected, the festival pulled the movie from official competition, shoved it into a cinema far out of the festival zone and planned to read a statement regarding their cowardly stand prior to the screening.

On the night of the screening, Gertten is introduced by Dawn Hudson (who is now the CEO of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences - AMPAS - which, should speak volumes already, and if it doesn't, there's no hope for you) then-director of the festival. She invites him to take the stage. He approaches and she motions for him to speak. He balks. He's been promised that she'll read the cowardly statement before his speech to the audience. She feigns surprise, but finally gives in and reads the statement. (Do any of these cowards have any self-respect?)

She uses the word "fraudulent" to describe the film's primary subject (even though she admits this same subject is fighting this with the bar association and criminal prosecutors). Though carefully worded so that she, nor the festival are overtly questioning Gertten's credibility, it's clearly slanted to put notions in the minds of the audience that the film they're about to watch is a potential crock.

The cowardly words she mouth-pieces are:

"We are not eager to be sued. Nor, given what we know, do we believe that BANANAS!* - in its present form - presents a fair or accurate portrait. . ."

Darling Dawn, all you REALLY know is that this complex case is not over yet and that a multinational corporation is threatening to sue everyone's ass to protect its own rectal opening.

Her final words to the audience are the biggest spoonful of bull-feces-laden-sugar to help the medicine of the cowardly go down:

". . . we are showing this film - out of competition - as a case study, to illuminate a timely exploration of what makes (and doesn’t make) a responsible documentary."

Give me a break.

I hope Dawn Hudson is enjoying her plum job with the Academy Awards geezers. Checking out her woeful acting credits on the IMDB suggests she shifted her thespian abilities to being a shill for the interests of the Status Quo.

What follows in the film is like some kind of Kafka nightmare through the eyes of a David Lynchian dreamscape. It's unbelievably cruel, nasty and terrifying. Sometimes it's so absurd, you want to laugh. Can this really happen in a democratic society? Well, considering democracy is dead - at least in North America - the answer would be a resounding, "Yes!" Deep pockets usually equals justice.

Ultimately, to see an artist go through the legal torture inflicted upon him by Dole (and everyone on their payroll) is as stomach-turning as it is anger-inducing.

His producer, for example, gets an anonymous letter suggesting she disavow herself from Gertten and the film. It even strongly implies that "money will flow" to her future productions if she does so (also implying, she's finished if she doesn't).

Dole hires a public relations firm to contact every major journalist in the world (including a whole bunch of them in Sweden), promising one-on-one access to the Dole side of the story.

News item upon news item in every media known to man flings mud upon Gertten and places Dole on a pedestal.

People close to Gertten feel like they're under constant surveillance.

Canadian Co-producer Bart Simpson laments that even in Canada, artists would never receive the kind of media and government support Gerrten received in his home country - against Dole. As a Canadian, I can only agree.

A supposed advocate for free speech compares Gertten's expose of Dole to the most horrendous piece of Nazi propaganda, The Eternal Jew.

Bloggers, forum posters - obviously Dole plants - were writing the most damning things about Gertten and his film.

Even when things seem to be turning in his favour, Gertten has more battles to fight.

Gertten never backs down.

By the end of the film, though, I do wonder how many other artists would bother to persevere in similar circumstances? What Hell the film drags us through is disheartening - even though Gertten's first movie, after years of struggle - can now be seen.

As a filmmaker, I thoroughly commiserated with Mr. Gertten. Years earlier I'd gone through a not dissimilar nightmare over a controversial work I produced and co-wrote. My experience, while horrendous at the time, seems now like kid-stuff compared to the horrors Gertten went through.

The bottom line is that when artists are under attack, we are all under attack.

"Big Boys Gone Bananas!*" is currently in theatrical release via Kinosmith.




Sunday, 6 May 2012

GregKlymkiw's 5 COOLEST Movies at the 2012 Hot Docs Canadian International Documentary Festival in Toronto. These movies are cooler than cool, so if you are cool, you'll want to see them because cool movies make the world go round - as do cool people. In alphabetical order, Klymkiw's Coolest Hot Docs are:

BIG BOYS GONE BANANAS*!: Like a Kafka nightmare through a David Lynchian dreamscape of terror, this great movie depicts an artist going through the legal torture inflicted upon him by a multinational corporation (and everyone on their payroll). It's stomach-turning. FULL REVIEW HERE
DRAGAN WENDE - WEST BERLIN: Vuk Maksimovic, a burgeoning cinematographer in Serbia, had, for years, heard tales of his legendary, high-rolling Uncle Dragan in Berlin. Now he was going to get to know him. Armed with two cameras and two trusted colleagues, he has made one of the most original, entertaining and penetrating documentaries about the wild days of pre-and-post communist society. FULL REVIEW HERE
THE PUNK SYNDROME: "Pertti Kurikka’s Name Day" is, without question, one of the greatest punk bands of all time. They are the unforgettable subjects of this breathtaking feature documentary that declares: "I demand your immediate attention or you die, motherfucker!" FULL REVIEW HERE
PUSHWAGNER: This movie rocks! It rocks hard! This is easily one of the best documentaries I've ever seen about a contemporary artist. And WHAT an artist! What a movie! FULL REVIEW HERE


THE WORLD BEFORE HER: What is the future for the young women of modern India? Is it adherence to thousands of years of subservient tradition or finding success through beauty? The chasm between the two couldn't be wider, but we discover in Nisha Pahuja's extraordinary film (recent Best Documentary Winner at the Tribeca Film Festival), the differences are often skin deep as parallel lines clearly exist beneath the surface. FULL REVIEW HERE

Saturday, 5 May 2012

GREG KLYMKIW'S 15 BEST FILMS AT TORONTO'S HOT DOCS CANADIAN INTERNATIONAL DOCUMENTARY FILM FESTIVAL 2012 EDITION - RANKED IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER

AN AFFAIR OF THE HEART: Director Sylvia Caminer's slick and entertaining tribute to 80s heart-throb Rick Springfield focuses on the fans who adore him and the unique relationship he has with them. FULL REVIEW HERE

BIG BOYS GONE BANANAS*!: Like a Kafka nightmare through a David Lynchian dreamscape of terror, this great movie depicts an artist going through the legal torture inflicted upon him by a multinational corporation (and everyone on their payroll). It's stomach-turning. FULL REVIEW HERE

DETROPIA:Rachel Grady/Heidi Ewing's (Jesus Camp) probing, provocative portrait of urban blight. Amidst crime, poverty and decay, there's still a pulse and heartbeat of something very cool. FULL REVIEW HERE

DRAGAN WENDE - WEST BERLIN: Vuk Maksimovic, a burgeoning cinematographer in Serbia, had, for years, heard tales of his legendary, high-rolling Uncle Dragan in Berlin. Now he was going to get to know him. Armed with two cameras and two trusted colleagues, he has made one of the most original, entertaining and penetrating documentaries about the wild days of pre-and-post communist society. FULL REVIEW HERE

FINDING NORTH: Focusing upon hunger in America, this important, passionate film moves like a shark, attacking its subject with precision and ferocity. Beautifully shot and edited, the craft is very high. We not only get great music from T Bone Burnett and the Civil Wars, but fervent appearances by Tom Colicchio AND Jeff Bridges. FULL REVIEW HERE

HERMAN'S HOUSE: This is an extraordinary film about extraordinary people in a country that has sadly learned nothing since 1776 but the right of might, the power of the dollar and the exploitation of the poor. Here's the Klymkiw Film Corner review of Herman's House: FULL REVIEW HERE

JEFF: It's a testament to the director's ability to work with three fascinating subjects and get the phenomenal footage he wrenches out of them - in spite of the unwelcome and unnecessary dramatics recreations, that this film still holds up as the most powerful rendering of the atrociously horrific crimes of Jeffrey Dahmer yet committed to film. FULL REVIEW HERE

THE LEGEND OF A WARRIOR: A personal doc wherein filmmaker Corey Lee reclaims his Chinese roots by training with his Dad, the legendary Frank Pang Lee, a great master of the martial arts who personally trained the equally legendary Billy Chow, the reigning world kickboxing champion through much of the 80s and a stalwart actor in over 50 martial arts pictures. FULL REVIEW HERE

MY NAME IS FAITH: Harrowing doc focuses on a deeply intelligent and beautiful 12-year-old girl, so neglected and abused by her birth mother, that she is stricken with and must battle Attachment Disorder in order to accept love from those who are willing and able to give it. FULL REVIEW HERE

PEACE OUT: This extraordinary picture takes you by surprise and leaves you breathless. As we dive into Charles Wilkinson and Tina Schliessler's vital film about environmental rape to build a new damn (typo intentional), we're eventually party to cinema of the highest order. FULL REVIEW HERE

THE PROPHET: Very similar to Godfrey Reggio's Qatsi trilogy (Koyaanisqatsi, Powaqqatsi, and Naqoyqatsi), as well as Ron Fricke's Baraka, Gary Tarn's film uses music and image to convey Kahlil Gibran's philosophies which, I grudgingly must admit, work perfectly within the context of the contemporary events used. That Gibran's words are delivered with such power by Thandie Newton sure doesn't hurt. FULL REVIEW HERE

THE PUNK SYNDROME: "Pertti Kurikka’s Name Day" is, without question, one of the greatest punk bands of all time. They are the unforgettable subjects of this breathtaking feature documentary that declares: "I demand your immediate attention or you die, motherfucker!" FULL REVIEW HERE

PUSHWAGNER: This movie rocks! It rocks hard! This is easily one of the best documentaries I've ever seen about a contemporary artist. And WHAT an artist! What a movie! FULL REVIEW HERE


THE QUEEN OF VERSAILLES: If I hadn't know otherwise, I might have thought that Lauren Greenfield's feature documentary was, in fact, an intensely satirical mockumentary on consumer culture in America. It's real, alright! All TOO real. FULL REVIEW HERE

THE WORLD BEFORE HER: What is the future for the young women of modern India? Is it adherence to thousands of years of subservient tradition or finding success through beauty? The chasm between the two couldn't be wider, but we discover in Nisha Pahuja's extraordinary film (recent Best Documentary Winner at the Tribeca Film Festival), the differences are often skin deep as parallel lines clearly exist beneath the surface. FULL REVIEW HERE