Terror's Advocate/ Taxi to the Dark Side/ Sicko

October 9, 2008

Terror’s Advocate (2007) **

Directed by Barbet Schroeder

Taxi to the Dark Side (2007) *****

Directed by Alex Gibney

Sicko (2007) ****

Directed by Michael Moore

Documentaries are one of the great cinematic art forms, and many of the very best films I’ve reviewed on this blog have been stellar examples of this underappreciated movie genre. Before this year, I never considered myself a particular fan of documentaries. When the award for Best Documentary Feature is announced at the Academy Awards, I tend to tune out and instead perhaps tally the scores for an Oscar pool I am running, or I might change the channel to the E! Network to see what “celebrity oops” has merited a 43^rd place ranking on its 101 countdown, or something like that. With the exception of one year when I saw the documentary The Fog of War on the morning of the Oscars, I’ve never seen a film nominated in this category by the time the winner is announced. This year, I plan to check out as many nominations as possible before the big night comes.

The first 2008 release I saw was the British documentary Young @ Heart. Though not perfect, it is quite effective cinematically, and the story it tells is truly heartwarming and inspirational. Yet, Young @ Heart will not be eligible for an Oscar come February 2008. It was shown on British television before being released into movie theaters, which disqualifies the film. The eligibility and voting rules in this category have been criticized severely for close to fifteen years since one of the greatest documentaries in history, and my personal all-time favorite, Hoop Dreams, did not receive a nomination in 1994. At that time, a small group of elderly voters would go to special screenings, and after twenty minutes or so, they were allowed to leave if they didn’t want to watch the entire movie. Beyond that, if they all agree in the middle of a film that they don’t want to continue showing it, the screening will end. Apparently, that’s what caused Hoop Dreams to lose its chance at a nomination. Since then, after much protest, the rules have changed, but they’re still far from perfect. As a matter of fact, controversy has reared its ugly head once again since the Academy recently announced a new rule that all documentary films eligible for a nomination must be released by August of that year. Stupid rule if you ask me!

I point out these injustices because of the deep respect I have for the role that documentary films can play in our lives. Some documentaries are nothing more than slices of intriguing entertaining, such as The King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters and My Kid Could Paint That, both of which I ascribed five star ratings. Other documentaries strive to educate and inform, especially historical documentaries such as Terror’s Advocate. The most important documentaries, however, tackle real life issues and present them in ways that attempt to move the public debate while remaining effective cinematically. No End in Sight, Taxi to the Dark Side and Sicko are all examples of films that desire to persuade. Of course, persuasion involves argumentation, and as such, these types of movies will not receive universal acceptance. No End in Sight, Taxi to the Dark Side and Sicko are no exceptions to this rule, that’s for sure.

Terror’s Advocate tells the fascinating and despicable story of Jacques Verges, now 83 years old, who has notoriously spent his entire life defending some of the worst terrorists of the twentieth century. He’s been retired since 2001 or else I’m sure he would have had no problem defending Saddam Hussein or any number of self-proclaimed members of al-Qaida. What makes Terror’s Advocate an achievement is the fact that much of the story comes from the mouth of Verges himself, often seen sitting behind a desk in a cozy den wearing expensive clothes while serenely smoking a cigar. He’s clearly a charming, well-spoken, seemingly temperate individual which makes the fact that he chose to dedicate his life to defending monsters that much more absorbing.

We also hear first hand accounts of those who were part of Verges’ life during his decades of legal service. Many of those we see on camera are accused and convicted terrorists themselves. When the film touches on Verges’ early life surrounding his involvement with young suicide bombers, often female, dedicated to the Algerian Resistance Movement, we hear accounts from individuals well into their sunset years. Therefore, Schroeder’s success in getting their stories on film before it is too late must be applauded.

What can’t be applauded, however, is Terror’s Advocate when judged cinematically. At a painfully long two hours and seventeen minutes, Terror’s Advocate was an absolute chore to sit through. Throw in the fact that ninety-five percent of the movie simply involves people talking (in French and rarely English and Chinese) without any cinematic flourishes beyond newspaper clippings and photographs. Also, Schroeder spends at least forty minutes presenting people’s guesses about what Verges was doing during seven years of his life that are unaccounted for and that Verges himself refuses to discuss. The film travels to Cambodia during this sequence since that’s where most people believe Verges spent his sabbatical from the world. While watching old person after old person discuss these seven years, two words kept entering into my mind—WHO CARES??? Ultimately, we never find out where he went or what he was doing during this time, and thus, forty minutes of my life that I can never get back were wasted exploring a question that had no relevance at all!

Schroeder follows Verges’ journey as a defender of terrorists from Algeria to Germany to Pakistan and beyond. At the end of the film, we see a list of the many terrorists that he spent his life defending, the last of which was Milosovich. Verges himself deeply agreed with the principles of those he defended, and the film strongly makes the argument that he also condoned their insistence on murdering innocent individuals in order to further their cause.

Personally, I believe that everyone, even Osama bin Laden, deserves an adequate legal defense. It’s a basic human right, and just because terrorists don’t respect life doesn’t mean that I’m going to advocate stooping to their level and treating them the same way. Yet, I can’t understand how someone as smart and talented as Verges could choose to spend his time on earth doing what he did. It’s abhorrent; it’s baffling, and yet, it’s his right. Truly a fascinating individual showcased in what is truly a boring documentary. By the end, I felt like all I was hearing were the sounds that Charlie Brown’s teacher makes when she talks to her students—wah wah wah.

Taxi to the Dark Side, on the other hand, is the best documentary I’ve seen since I saw Hoop Dreams six months ago. It examines the debate over torture as an interrogation tool specifically in the War on Terror. Shown through the paradigm of the infamous Abu Ghraib and Guantanamo Bay scandals, Taxi to the Dark Side brilliantly and convincingly argues that torture is not only cruel, but it’s also a completely ineffective method to gather credible intelligence.

Interestingly enough, I’ve never really made up my mind about this issue before seeing the film. I love the television show 24 which often has Jack Bauer and others using torture to extract information from bad guys in order to stop some kind of ticking time bomb from destroying a significant portion of the world, or something like that. I figure that in extreme circumstance like the ones 24 showcases weekly, we would have no choice but to use any means possible to prevent massive loss of life. Even less dramatically, if torture succeeds in acquiring the United States with information on an impending terrorist attack, then perhaps the ends justify the means.

Taxi to the Dark Side not only shows us the inhumanity of the soldiers involved in the two aforementioned torture scandals often from their own mouths, but it also addresses exactly what I just said in a straightforward, compelling way. First of all, the odds that we would ever have an individual in custody who has secret knowledge of the location of a ticking time bomb is astronomically low. It’s never once happened in our history, and it will almost definitely never happen. Second, if you torture someone long enough, you can get him or her to say anything you want. Therefore, any intelligence gained through torture is completely unreliable. Odds are greater that the intelligence is false rather than true.

Taxi also works as a an example of quality filmmaking, using interviews, disturbing pictures, news footage, recreations, tours, etc. in order to keep the viewer compelled beyond what was simply being said. Also, the experts that speak in the film are all extremely convincing and impressively well-credentialed. It’s clearly taking a position against torture and presenting it in a mature, organized way. This film is a must see for anyone interested at all in this particular issue. Even if you disagree with the film’s fundamental argument, you will learn quite a lot from Taxi to the Dark Side, and it’s also presented in a non-threatening way. This isn’t a Michael Moore exercise in liberal cynicism. It does, however, support its thesis aggressively and brilliantly. Gibney deserved the Academy Award in 2007 considering that this documentary is a glorious achievement!

Michael Moore is a cynical liberal, which is why I said what I did about him in the previous paragraph. If you’ve never seen a Michael Moore film, then you don’t know how brutally divisive and profoundly sanctimonious he can come across. I’d love to monitor Bill O’Reilly’s blood pressure as he watches any Michael Moore movie since I’m sure it would spike into the stratosphere! I’ve seen Roger and Me, and I’ve seen Moore give his acceptance speeches at various award shows calling Bush a criminal and a deviant. Therefore, I wasn’t surprised at all to find that Sicko’s opening scene shows President Bush making a gaffe talking about how he’s frustrated that OB/GYN’s aren’t able to express their “love with women.” Clearly we know what Bush meant to say, and everyone slips up at times, even someone like Michael Moore himself. Therefore, I felt this unapologetic smarminess was a sour way to begin Sicko.

Then we hear Moore’s narration serving almost like God’s voice sarcastically pointing out the so-called injustices of medical insurance companies. He peppers his argument with specific stories about people who have been refused treatment or have ended up in financial ruin because of denials of coverage from companies themselves. At first, the cases he focuses on are relatively tame, dealing specifically with people who are in financial trouble. Later on, he presents individuals whose loved ones have died because they were refused treatment which may have saved their lives. While watching these stories progress, I was impressed with Moore’s ability to tell the right story at the right time just as I was about to reject his argument altogether because of his visceral tone. He doesn’t want to hit us over the head with sad story after sad story. Instead, he’s purposefully trying to keep us at an emotional distance so that when he does reel us in through profoundly tragic examples of his argument, we are convinced in spite of ourselves.

Sicko goes off the rails a bit when Moore examines universal health care. First, he travels to Canada and portrays it as a utopian medical reality. Moore’s argument is so slanted towards pro-universal health care that you can’t help but not take him seriously. Then he travels to England and France to look at their government run medical programs. According to the people Moore interviews, there are NO PROBLEMS WHATSOEVER with anyone’s medical treatment in these countries. Seriously, not one person argued the other side. Yet, again, Moore’s a smart dude, and thus, he’s not going to let us dismiss his thesis that easily. He revels in his own audacity by taking things to an obvious comical extreme. He learns that in Paris, one of the services that new mothers can receive is a government worker who will come over and do their laundry for them while helping take care of their baby. Why focus on this stupid detail at all? Well, clearly Moore’s got something up his sleeve.

After his foray into heaven itself, also known as the Canadian, British and French health care systems, Moore hits his argument home in an extremely powerful final half hour. As a matter of fact, I believe the last thirty minutes of Sicko to be one of the best stretches of film I’ve seen all year. I won’t give away what he does specifically, but I will say that it’s completely unexpected, totally ballsy and profoundly compelling. This boat trip (that’s the only hint I’ll give), combined with two stories of Americans who are treated unimaginably by hospitals and insurance companies, absolutely convinced me that there’s something fundamentally broken regarding America’s health care. I didn’t completely buy into the argument that we should immediately switch to universal health care, but I did come to believe that we can’t leave things the way they are now. My guess is that Moore was using the former, more impractical argument in order to really push the latter, more significant argument about the severe injustices regarding health care in America. Sly filmmaking indeed!

It’s too bad, however, that Moore’s antics have made his voice irrelevant to so many that he’s purposefully pissed off. After watching a film like Taxi to the Dark Side which presents a liberal argument compellingly in a way that could be embraced by a larger audience and thus perhaps change minds, I find it sad that Moore has dug himself into a hole where so much detestation and hatred are flung at him, much of it justified. He’s a gifted filmmaker and a provocative, brave spokesperson for the causes that he believes in. Too bad that so many feel compelled to completely disregard his voice. Honestly, Moore has no one to blame but himself.

After I finished watching Sicko and as I began to think about all three documentaries in this review, I switched the television to NBC which was showing a new episode of The Office. I absolutely adore that show, but I had to turn it off. After seeing these three documentaries, I felt like I had to engage with reality for a while rather than immersing myself into the fantasy world that fictional entertainment provides. Rather than saying that you owe it to yourself to see more great documentaries, I’ll simply say that I feel that I ought to check out pertinent documentaries more often. I think it will make me a well rounded filmgoer as well as a more informed human being.

The Science of Sleep

October 8, 2008

The Science of Sleep (2006) **1/2

Directed by Michel Gondry

Now I like weird, offbeat films as much as the next guy, if not more, but The Science of Sleep starts out trying to be odd, and in its quest to be quirky, it sadly comes across unorganized, muddled and ultimately frustrating. Michel Gondry, who directed Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, a film I absolutely love, and Be Kind Rewind, a film I don’t like, clearly enjoys playing around with visuals in a way that makes his movies appeal to some and repel others. One thing is for sure though—when you walk into a Gondry film, you’re in for a ride unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. Well, actually, sort of… now that I’ve seen my third Gondry movie, I kind of feel like I know what to expect when I sit down to watch another one of his movies. There are moments during The Science of Sleep that simply feel tired. How many times have films pondered that gray area of reality that exists between dreaming and being awake? Since Gondry decides to tackle this overexamined question in this film, he definitely needs to add something new to this clichéd exploration. In my opinion, he fails.

Gondry uses visual and special effects like a master, and it’s astounding how well he is able to seamlessly incorporate some of these effects into his handheld cinematography. It was during these moments that I felt a sense of magic and wonder. I absolutely love the moments when clouds become part of an apartment as well as when cellophane water pours out of a sink. I’m guessing that these special effects involve stop motion camerawork, similar to how clay animation is used in films like Wallace and Gromit and Chicken Run. Unfortunately, there are too many scenes that remind me of the old Gumby cartoons from the 1970’s. Stop motion clay animation, when seen by itself in The Science of Sleep and not incorporated into real life, simply looks cheap and uninteresting. There are whole chunks of the film that feel like they belong in Peter Gabriel music videos. If you don’t understand that reference, maybe you might remember music videos from the alternative band Tool. Either way, I’ve seen this kind of thing done before in more innovative ways, and honestly, I believe that it went out of style about ten years ago. Perhaps Gondry was hoping that enough time has passed that audiences might have forgotten.

The real treat in The Science of Sleep is the performance by one of the most interesting actors working today—Gael Garcia Bernal. I didn’t care for his overall work in Pedro Almodovar’s sleazy film Bad Education, but there was one scene that has stayed with me months after seeing that movie. He plays a transgendered individual who makes her debut as a woman while lip-synching a song at a drag show. Bernal is astounding during this routine, obviously showcasing the effort he put forth into studying drag culture so as to emulate it perfectly. In The Science of Sleep, he plays Stephane Miroux, a troubled young man who returns to Paris after the death of his father. It’s clear that Stephane’s dream state is so vivid that it’s hard if not impossible for him to distinguish it from reality. We see his dreams played out in what looks like a cable access game/cooking show, with Stephane himself as host. His dream-eyelids become tacky curtains which literally open and close in connection with his real eyelids.

Here lies the first frustrating element of The Science of Sleep. At times, things seem to be happening literally in conjunction with reality, and at other times, it seems like there are no rules at all, and everything is happening in an irrational, chaotic way which dreams often follow. I eventually gave up trying to ascribe parameters to this movie. Either this film exists in chaos or its logical boundaries are so complicated that the viewer must revisit the film over and over to understand them. If chaos is the case, then I think Gondry’s screenplay is lazy. It’s easy to make a movie with no rules at all—see 1994’s North, which is the worst film I’ve ever seen. If Gondry requires the viewer to revisit his film in order to understand it, then I think he’s got quite a lot of gall. Play by some comprehendible rules, or get over yourself!

Stephane works at a calendar making company, and as the film progresses, I think it’s clear that the three employees that work with him are actually different facets of his character, or perhaps, they are three other personalities that live inside his head. More than once, one employee calls the other two fags. Perhaps this is Stephane’s heterosexual side insecure in itself. With all of the scenes involving the three coworkers, I felt that there was an understandable gimmick being played, and I enjoyed it as much as I could grasp it. Unfortunately, in a film as irritating in its whimsy as The Science of Sleep, I began to include all of the film’s eccentricities in my resentment.

The main plot of the film takes place when Stephane meets his new neighbor Stephanie, a young woman so creative that she and Stephane could very well be delusional soulmates. Unfortunately, the sexual side of himself takes a liking to Stephanie’s friend Zoe, and thus in his dreams, he writes a letter to Stephanie asking for Zoe’s phone number and slides it under Stephanie’s door. He’s relieved when he wakes up to find that he was only dreaming, except it’s clear from the wet footprints (he was taking a bath at the time of his dream) that he actually did slide the letter under her door. He’s able to retrieve it supposedly before she reads it. Little does Stephane know that she did read it, and thus, as they become close, Stephanie thinks that Stephane’s not interested in her.

Are you starting to see by my plot descriptions how cloying this movie can be? Also, the entire film takes place from Stephane’s viewpoint, and yet, there are a few scenes involving Stephanie and Zoe in order to further the plot that Stephane is totally unaware of. So we, the audience, know some details that Stephane doesn’t, and yet, like I said, the whole movie seems to take place from Stephane’s viewpoint. Therefore, Gondry simply didn’t think things all the way through—or perhaps he was so dead set on wowing us visually that he left us with a lazy script.

Later in the film, there’s a machine which plays around with time. Clearly, this machine isn’t meant to be taken as a literal reality, but even still, I’d think tackling the philosophy of dreaming is enough without throwing in explorations of the philosophy of time.

There are wonderful moments in The Science of Sleep, and Bernal’s performance is truly outstanding. Yet, this movie’s plot plays like it was conceived and executed by a bunch of amateur philosophy students who think it would be cool to make metaphysics their plaything. Or perhaps Gondry had in mind some cool visual flairs and he constructed a storyline around them which wasn’t thought through. Be Kind Rewind had less visual tricks than The Science of Sleep, but unfortunately, its plot and characters were dead on arrival. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind perfectly married Gondry’s creative skills with a brilliant eccentric romance. The Science of Sleep, on the other hand, is way too ambitious in its visual aspirations, and as such, it takes logical puzzles that potentially could have been intriguing and simply lets them play out without any satisfying answers much to my frustration.

Margot at the Wedding

October 4, 2008

Margot at the Wedding (2007) *1/2

Directed by Noah Baumbach

This past week saw the vice-presidential candidates debate each other. It was truly fascinating television, and I, like many others, was curious to see whether or not Sarah Palin was going to be a disaster. Well, she certainly did a respectable job, though my opinion of her has not changed at all. Personally, I find her incessant insistence that she’s just one of the “regular folk” completely offensive. Republicans tend to mock intelligence and sophistication. At times, they think that people are so stupid that they will feel better about a candidate that is just as stupid as they are. Of course, John McCain is extremely intelligent, so he’s not even attempting this argument. Palin, on the other hand, almost embraces the label that those in the so-called liberal media have ascribed to her—an unqualified idiot. Every time she accuses Obama of being “out of touch” with the needs and concerns of “ordinary” Americans, I want to crawl in a hole. How condescending can you be Governor Palin?

That being said, I can’t help but be totally hypocritical as I describe my reaction to Baumbach’s horrendously unpleasant film Margot at the Wedding. I think everyone involved who thought that people might embrace this movie are in fact totally “out of touch” not just with ordinary Americans, but also with anyone who enjoys being happy every once in a while. You’d seriously have to be profoundly miserable in order to enjoy this sad excuse for ironic entertainment. Margot at the Wedding would be the perfect prescription for those that want to stop feeling joy for the rest of their lives.

Baumback directed another film I’ve heard described as unlikable, The Squid and the Whale. I’ve not seen it yet, and after watching Margot at the Wedding, it’s moved down on my mental list of movies I eventually want to check out. Margot at the Wedding plays like a stream of consciousness therapy session on an especially bad day. Every character is unapologetically repulsive. Most scenes are truly uncomfortable. Each storyline comes off completely distasteful. What makes Margot and the Wedding borderline morally offensive is the fact that many of its odious lines and actions come from young teenagers whose mothers and fathers should never have allowed these actors to appear in this deranged man’s movie.

This low budget independent film, shot completely with a handheld camera, tells the story of a well respected novelist named Margot (Nicole Kidman), whose sister Pauline (Jennifer Jason Leigh) is about to marry schlubby Malcolm (Jack Black). Also involved in this ill-fated wedding are Margot’s sensitive teenage son Claude (Zane Pais) and Pauline’s odd daughter Ingrid (Fiona Cross). In the film’s rushed opening scene, we learn very quickly that Margot has no filter regarding the harsh judgments she makes about those around her. She tells Claude that this marriage is never going to last.

Pauline and Malcolm have their own issues, and Margot’s clearly not going to make things easier for either of them. Malcolm is pretty much an overgrown angry kid, and Jack Black turns the subtlety dial down to zero in order to squeeze a few drops of comedy out of his pathetic character. Black fails as much as he succeeds, but I will give him credit for trying at all. He’s the only one that seems to refuse to completely bury his performance in Baumbach’s crap pile of discontentment.

In case it’s not clear how monstrous these people are, there’s a throw away storyline about a gay couple with a son that may or may not have autism. The teenage characters discuss whether this boy is gay or retarded. Hardy har har. After a dour croquet game, the film does refreshingly give these characters one moment of joy while simultaneously providing the audience with one laugh out loud sequence. Margot climbs a tree like she used to when she was a girl, but unfortunately, she gets stuck near the top, resulting in the fire department coming to her rescue. When characters sit around and laugh once Margot is safe, it provided much needed warmth. Unfortunately, iciness all too soon takes over once again.

I got tired of Baumbach taking neutral scenes and adding in gratuitous depressing elements. For example, when Margot and a local collaborator are about to have a romantic moment, instead of having them kiss, Baumbach has the guy repulsively lick her neck slowly. Add in an accusation of pedophilia and a moment where Claude tells his mother that he masturbated the night before and you’ve got a movie that I will never subject myself to watching again.

I also want to make it clear that not only are these characters borderline sociopaths, they’re not the least bit interesting. Margot’s a narcissist for sure, but she’s the dullest narcissist I’ve ever seen in film history. Claude and Pauline are pretty much forgettable characters. Malcolm seems to come from a different film altogether, and even still, his characterization feels incomplete.

Margot at the Wedding has elements that are so viscerally hateful, and yet, these elements don’t add up to anything worth remembering, let alone revisiting. Baumbach has serious issues, that’s for sure. Here’s hoping he stops using movies in order to deal with them directly. Personally, I feel like he owes me $150 for having to sit through his ninety minute therapy session as he lets his dreadfully dull inner demons free. So, for you “ordinary Americans” out there, it’s clear that Noah Baumbach is completely out of touch with your values. As you make that all important choice regarding what movies to watch, say to yourself, “America can do better than Margot at the Wedding!”