Tag Archives: On Politics

Conspiracy a-go-go, Documentary, On Politics

SIFF 2013: Our Nixon ***

September 4, 2015 Dennis Hartley Leave a comment

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on May 18, 2013)

In Our Nixon, director Penny Lane strives to construct an arch portrait of The Tricky One by sneaking in through the back door. It seems some of the president’s men were home movie buffs. A treasure trove of Super8 footage taken by H.R. Haldeman, John Erlichman and Dwight Chapin during their White House tenure recently surfaced. Lane blends choice snippets of the aforementioned with archival news footage, interviews with the three aides and excerpts from the infamous secret Oval Office recordings. It’s the Nixon administration retooled as an episode of Entourage. No new revelations or insight for political junkies, but for viewers of a “certain age”, it sustains an oddly nostalgic tone.

60's Counterculture, Journalism, On Politics

Blu-ray reissue: Medium Cool ***

September 1, 2015 Dennis Hartley Leave a comment

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on July 6, 2013)

Medium Cool- The Criterion Collection Blu-ray

What Haskell Wexler’s unique 1969 drama may lack in narrative cohesion is more than made up for by its importance as a sociopolitical document. Robert Forster stars as a TV news cameraman who is fired after he complains to station brass about their willingness to help the FBI build files on political agitators via access to raw news film footage and reporter’s notes.

He drifts into a relationship with a Vietnam War widow (Verna Bloom) and her 12 year-old son. They eventually find themselves embroiled in the mayhem surrounding the 1968 Democratic Convention (in the film’s most memorable scene, the actors were actually sent in to improvise amidst one of the infamous “police riots” as it was happening). Many of the issues Wexler touches on (especially regarding media integrity and journalistic responsibility) would be extrapolated further in films like Network and Broadcast News.

Criterion’s Blu-ray sports a beautifully restored transfer, and insightful extra features.

Documentary, On Politics, The Environment

Strange bedfellows: Grassroots * & True Wolf *

August 31, 2015 Dennis Hartley Leave a comment

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on June 23, 2012)

Seattle politician in native habitat: Grassroots.

There aren’t many political biopics that open with the candidate-to-be dressed in a bear suit and screaming at traffic. But then again, there aren’t many cities I have lived in that have a political climate quite like Seattle. I’ve never forgotten what a standup comic pal (and long-time resident) told me when I first moved to the Emerald City 20 years ago. “Don’t let anybody bullshit you about how ‘hip’ or ‘metropolitan’ this town is,” he advised, “…Because it will always be Mayberry with a Space Needle.”

A case in point would be the brief but colorful political career of Grant Cogswell, which has provided fodder for a film from director Stephen Gyellenhaal (yes, acting siblings Maggie and Jake are his progeny). Cogswell (Joel David Moore) was an unemployed music critic (a polite term for “slacker”) with no prior political experience, who made a run for a city council seat back in 2001. His unconventional grassroots campaign was managed by his friend and fellow political neophyte Phil Campbell (Jason Biggs). The film opens with Campbell getting fired from his gig writing for The Stranger (Seattle’s long-running alt-weekly hipster rag). “You can’t get any lower,” a self-pitying Campbell whines to his live-in girlfriend (Lauren Ambrose). What’s he to do with all his time now?

The answer soon arrives when he is roped into joining his eccentric pal Grant on a quest to unseat incumbent councilman Richard McIver (Cedric the Entertainer). Cogswell sees McIver as the quintessential self-serving politician in bed with the Big Money Boys; in this case emptying city coffers for an ambitious light rail project, when the answer to Seattle’s traffic congestion has been right there in front of everybody since the 1962 World’s Fair: the monorail. Why not expand this cheaper, green-friendly “…super-ass modern transportation system”? Launching his campaign armed with this “electro-strategy”…they’re off to the races.

While political junkies may take umbrage that Gyllenhaal’s screenplay (co-written with Justin Rhodes and based on Campbell’s campaign memoir Zioncheck for President) takes a broad approach by favoring the kookier elements of the story, I think most viewers will find his film engaging. The cast’s energy and enthusiasm is palpable, and whilst Gyllenhaal’s film lacks the verbal agility and pacing of, say, The Great McGinty (particularly with lines like “Politics, bitches!”), he seems to be channeling Preston Sturges at times. I think it was wise for Gyllenhaal to eschew the political minutiae; otherwise he may have ended up with something of little interest to anyone besides Seattleites. In fact, the best thing about this film is that it (dare I say it?) renews your faith in the democratic process. In these cynical times, that is a good thing.

Canis lupus in unnatural habitat: True Wolf.

It’s often said that “politics makes strange bedfellows”, but have you ever heard of a “wolf ambassador”? Before I screened Rob Whitehair’s modest but engrossing new documentary True Wolf, I certainly hadn’t. A cross between Born Free and Never Cry Wolf, Whitehair’s film tells the story of how a wolf named Koani became an environmental activist (in a manner of speaking) and touched the lives of thousands. Born into captivity, Koani was raised by Montana couple Bruce Weide and Pat Tucker, who co-founded Wild Sentry: The Northern Rockies Ambassador Wolf Program back in 1991. The star of the show was Koani, who traveled around the country with Tucker (and the family dog) to appear at schools and museums. Together, they helped dispel common misconceptions about wolves.

The film mixes newer interviews with footage culled over the 16 years of Koani’s life, which was both a trial by fire and labor of love for her empathetic human “parents”. Ever cognizant of the inherent “wrong” (no matter how noble one’s intentions) in keeping such a magnificent wild creature enclosed or on a leash, Weide and Tucker nonetheless overcame the challenges and found a way to truly make Koani’s life matter, and it makes for an amazingly moving story. Whitehair balances the political side of the tale (which recounts the couple’s involvement in the uproar over wolf reintroduction to the Northern Rockies) by also giving screen time to detractors. The film also gives food for thought regarding the striking commonalities between wolves and humans, begging two key questions: a) who is living on whose turf, anyway? And, b)…can’t we all just get along?

Historical drama, On Politics

Having a wild weekend: Hyde Park on Hudson ***

August 25, 2015 Dennis Hartley Leave a comment

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on December 8, 2012)

Lister: (looking out a prison cell window) They’re all just lining up in some kind of firing squad. Whoa, whoa, hang on, someone’s being brought out. They’re tying him to a stake. It’s Winnie the Pooh.

The Cat: What!?

Lister: Winnie the Pooh, I swear. He’s refusing the blindfold.

The Cat: They’re tying Winnie the Pooh to the stake?

(Gunfire erupts from outside)

Lister: (sinks, looking shell shocked) That’s something no-one should ever have to see.

-from Red Dwarf, written by Rob Grant and Doug Naylor

Let me tell you something else that no-one should ever have to see: FDR getting a hand job. Even if it is tastefully photographed in a field of clover, in a long shot, accompanied by romantic music…that’s just something that no-one should ever have to see. I’m no prude, and I realize he was only human, and we’ve heard the rumors about the philandering, but still. I guess it’s the liberal idealist inside me that wants to have at least one progressive icon to truly believe in.

Oh well. That being said, there’s still a lot to like about Notting Hill director Roger Michell’s Hyde Park on Hudson, an engaging (if lightweight) “fly on the wall” dramedy recounting events (documented and speculative) surrounding a 1939 visit by the British King and Queen to Roosevelt’s New York estate.

Rendered in the style of Upstairs, Downstairs (with echoes of Cold Comfort Farm), Michell and his screenwriter Richard Nelson (who adapted from his own play) filter their narrative through the situational observances of a peripheral participant. Her name is Daisy Suckley (Laura Linney), and she is the President’s sixth cousin.

While historians still debate whether there ever really was anything nasty going on in the woodshed between the real-life Suckley (who died in 1991 at age 99) and FDR, for the purpose of the film the two are assumed as being romantically involved. Their relationship is loosely chronicled through her voice-over narration (Linney, a fine actress, is handed a thankless task at times, wrestling with breathless schoolgirl prose like, “…how I longed for him!”).

The film opens with Daisy being summoned by the President (Bill Murray) to Hyde Park, where aides, staffers and family members are all atwitter about the pending visit from the royal couple. FDR, however, is currently more focused on his stamp collection, and his cousin’s visit. Alone with her in his study, he invites Daisy to come closer to his desk, so she can better appreciate some of his, ah, collectibles (this must run a close second to “Would you like to come up and see some of my etchings?” as a seduction line).

At any rate, it’s the genesis of a long-running love affair…at least according to the filmmakers. The affair, which takes up the first third of the 94 minute running time, is actually the film’s weakest element; luckily things pick up considerably in the second act, once King George VI (Samuel West) and Queen Elizabeth (Olivia Colman) arrive for the weekend.

The tone of the film shifts at this juncture for the better, transforming it into more of a comedy of manners and of political protocols. West and Colman are charming as the royal couple. The Queen is quite appalled at the collection of vintage American political cartoons that hang on the wall of their guest room (dating from the War of 1812, the depictions put the British in, shall we say, a somewhat negative light), as well as the prospect of dining on hot dogs (the horror!) at an impending picnic luncheon.

On the other hand, Bertie (being a good sport), is more bemused than bothered. In the film’s standout scene, the King and FDR loosen up and bond over drinks in the study. The scene is augmented by the best monologue in the screenplay, in which FDR assuages Bertie’s self-consciousness about his stutter by speaking in a self-deprecating manner about his own inability to walk. At once funny and moving, it’s wonderfully played by both actors.

Murray makes for a surprisingly credible FDR, likely bolstered by the fact that the script doesn’t require him to portray FDR the statesman. In a sense, by so convincingly channeling FDR’s celebrated personal charm, he does give us a fairly insightful glimpse of what made him such a successful politician. There are notable supporting performances from Olivia Williams as Eleanor Roosevelt (she’s so good that I wish they had written her a meatier part with more screen time) and from Elizabeth Marvel as FDR’s personal secretary, Missy Lehand.

Political junkies and history buffs are forewarned to not expect Michell’s film to be in the same league as Sunrise at Campobello, or the 1976 TV series Eleanor and Franklin; if anything, it shares more in common with Woody Allen’s A Midsummer Night’s Sex Comedy. You could do worse.

Big Money, Documentary, On Politics

Harvest uptown, famine downtown: The Queen of Versailles **1/2

August 17, 2015 Dennis Hartley Leave a comment

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on August 11, 2012)

(*Sigh*) Mon Dieu, I hate being so right all the time. Several weeks ago, in my review of Benoit Jacquot’s Farewell, My Queen (a drama centered on intrigue in the court of Marie Antoinette and Louis XVI at Versailles on the eve of the French Revolution), I wrote:

It’s nearly impossible to observe the disconnect of these privileged aristocrats carrying on in their gilded bubble while the impoverished and disenfranchised rabble sharpen up the guillotines without drawing parallels with our current state of affairs (history, if nothing else, is cyclical).

Which reminds me of a funny story. In Lauren Greenfield’s new documentary, The Queen of Versailles, billionaire David Siegel (aka “The Timeshare King”) shares an anecdote about his 52-story luxury timeshare complex on the Vegas strip (the PH Towers Westgate). In 2010, Donald Trump called him and said, “Congratulations on your new tower! I’ve got one problem with it. When I stay in my penthouse suite, I look out the window and all I see is ‘WESTGATE’. Could you turn your sign down a little bit?” (And you thought that the rich never suffered?) Oh, he’s got a million of ‘em.

However, Mr. Siegel isn’t the sole subject of Greenfield’s study. A good portion of screen time is hijacked by his wife. To say Jackie Siegel (possibly the love child of Joanna Lumley and Tammy Faye) “really knows how to light up a room” would be an understatement. Her most amusing anecdote? “The first time I ever took the boys on a commercial plane, they said: ‘Mommy! What are all these people doing on our plane?!’” OMG! That is so hi-lair-ious!

Now, lest you begin to think that it’s all about chewing the fat and towel-snapping shenanigans around the mansion with the Siegels, their eight kids, nanny, cook, maids, chauffeur and (unknown) quantity of yippy, prolifically turd-laying teacup dogs…there is a sobering side to this tale. Now, I hope you’re sitting down, and I don’t want you to take this too hard (I’m bravely fighting back tears as I write this), but it seems that even this family of means has not been immune from hardships in the wake of the 2008 financial crisis (I know-it’s so tragic). This “riches to rags” theme provides fuel for Greenfield’s film (or…Citizen Kane meets The Beverly Hillbillies).

The family’s ensuing “sacrifices” provide a succession of reality TV moments. Jackie is doing her Christmas shopping at Wal-Mart (the humanity!); David is losing his shit over lights being left on in the house, and so on. You know, they’re just everyday folks like you and me, worrying about the bills and feeding the kids . The elephant in the room is the family’s unfinished Orlando, Florida mansion, the infamous “largest home in America”, a 90,000 square foot behemoth inspired by the palace at Versailles. Drama arises when the bank threatens to foreclose on it, along with the PH Towers Westgate. So does the family end up living in cardboard boxes? I’m not telling.

This is a slickly produced film, yet it left me ambivalent; it wasn’t particularly enlightening. I suppose one can wallow in the schadenfreude (obviously, I did), but that’s still not enough to carry the 100 minute running time. The problem is that regardless whether they are down to their last red cent or have 500 million in the bank, these people are not very interesting. They have little to offer beyond the glorified banality of puffed-up Lotto winners.

Then again, maybe that’s the point of the film-money can’t buy you charisma. Apparently, however, it can buy you a POTUS. When Siegel boasts that he was “personally responsible” for the election of George W. Bush in 2000, the director asks him to elaborate. “I’d rather not say,” he replies, “…because it may not necessarily have been legal.” Any further thoughts? “Had I not stuck my big nose into it, there probably would not have been an Iraqi War, and maybe we would have been better off…I don’t know.”

Now that is “rich”.

Big Money, Documentary, On Politics, The Environment

We are Devo: Surviving Progress ***

August 16, 2015 Dennis Hartley Leave a comment

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on April 21, 2012)

In Man’s evolution he has created the city and

The motor traffic rumble, but give me half a chance

And I’d be taking off my clothes and living in the jungle

-Ray Davies

This just in! Our brains haven’t changed much in 50,000 years. “We’re running 21^st Century software on 50,000 year-old hardware,” observes one of the interviewees in a thought-provoking documentary called Surviving Progress…and like anyone who witnesses the perennially absurd behavior of Homo sapiens on the nightly news, I am inclined to agree. Right out of the gate, co-writer-directors Mathieu Roy and Harold Crooks drive that point home with an illustration that doubles as clever 2001: a Space Odyssey homage.

An adult chimpanzee enters a white booth containing nothing but a table, upon which lay two “L” shaped blocks. The chimp spots a primatologist researcher in an adjoining room, on the other side of a clear partition. The chimp can also see that the primatologist holds a nice piece of fruit, so it puts its arm through a hole in the partition. No treat is forthcoming. The chimp assesses the situation. It picks up one of the blocks, rights it into a standing position, and again reaches through the hole. Nada. Aha! After righting the second block, the chimp gets its treat. Is this “progress”? Cut to NASA footage of an orbiting space station. Is this progress? Can mankind have its banana now?

Before tackling such a loaded question (and patting ourselves on the back for being so much “smarter” than monkeys), we first need to define our terms. What is “progress”, exactly? Luckily for us, the filmmakers have come fully armed with an impressive and diverse team of learned specialists: physicists, anthropologists, scientists, environmentalists, futurists and economists. Surely they can shed light on a question like, “What is progress?” Cut to a montage of positively stymied experts. Uh-oh. This isn’t a very thought-provoking documentary so far. Maybe if we offer them a nice piece of fruit?

Not to worry. Ronald Wright, author of A Short History of Progress (the book that inspired the film) pops by and sets up the premise for the ensuing 90 minutes. Humanity’s progress, he posits, has historically been measured by its ever-accelerating “forward” motion. Which is all fine and dandy; that is, until you begin to consider the “cost”. And we are not necessarily talking money.

For example, there is “natural capital”. As scientist/activist David Suzuki observes in the film, “Money doesn’t stand for anything, and money now grows faster than anything in the real world.” He’s right. You can always print more money, but Earth’s resources are finite, and according to one interviewee, up until 1980 (right about the time that the world’s most populous nation, China decided to start playing “catch-up”), we were getting away with “living on the interest”- all for the sake of progress. But today, we’re blowing through our inheritance, as it were. And if we’re not careful, the human race will be in the poorhouse.

Not that the filmmakers are using China, or environmental concerns, as the whipping boy. This is but one example of what Wright identifies as “progress traps”, which could be compromising the future of our planet as a whole. In fact, what makes the film so unique and compelling is how it connects the dots between cultural anthropology, predictable patterns of human behavior, accelerated depletion of Earth’s natural resources, lopsided distribution of the world’s wealth, and most importantly, how all of the above have repeatedly factored into the collapse of previous civilizations.

While dire warnings abound, it’s not all gloom and doom. Stephen Hawking suggests that if we can shepherd the planet through the next 200 years without destroying it, we could flourish for a very long time (barring, one assumes, a big catastrophe like an asteroid hit).

The motifs and subtexts of the visual narrative (beautifully photographed by Mario Janelle and well edited by Louis-Marin Paradis) reminded me of Godfrey Reggio’s (wordless) 1982 film meditation on the price of progress, Koyaanisqatsi (a Hopi Indian word meaning “life out of balance”). I have not read his book, but some of Wright’s on-camera observations about the negative effect of accelerated change recall those of Alvin Toffler, whose 1970 bestseller Future Shock gave us the nickname for the phenomenon.

So while the concept isn’t new, it’s presented in a fresh manner, packing much insight into 87 minutes. Besides, we could use more reality checks like this, and would all do well to remember the film’s money quote, which Wright says he saw scrawled on a graffiti wall:

“Every time history repeats itself, the price goes up.”

Biopic, Historical drama, On Politics

Notes from the underground: The Lady **

August 16, 2015 Dennis Hartley Leave a comment

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on April 14, 2012)

On a recent trip to Myanmar, Secretary of State Clinton publicly expressed her admiration for Burmese political activist Aung San Suu Kyi, acknowledging her long personal struggle (including 15 years of house arrest) as head of an opposition party that has been (peacefully) attempting to bring democracy to a country that has been under oppressive military rule for 50 years.

Some encouraging news emerged earlier this month, with Suu Kyi and other members of her party winning 43 out of 45 seats in the lower house of the parliament. Indeed, Suu Kyi’s story is an extraordinary one (and which one hopes is far from over). That’s why it’s a shame that Luc Besson’s biopic, The Lady, while timely in its release, can only be described as “ordinary” in its execution. It’s a largely uninspired affair that starts off like Gandhi…but ends up more like Camille.

The film begins promisingly, with a beautifully constructed and emotionally affecting preface. It’s 1947, and the nation later to be called Myanmar is still known to the world as Burma. We see 3-year old Suu Kyi kissing her father, General Aung San, goodbye before he heads off to a fateful political meeting, where he is assassinated (General Aung San is now honored as that nation’s “Father” for his key role in helping gain independence from British colonial rule).

The next time we see Suu Kyi (Michelle Yeoh), she is an adult, living in England with her husband, Oxford academic Dr. Michael Aris (David Thewlis). They have two teenage sons (Jonathan Raggett and Jonathan Woodhouse). When Suu Kyi learns that her mother is gravely ill, she returns to Burma. It is during this visit (in 1988) that she realizes how unstable her country has become, and sees how fear and dread rules. When she is asked by pro-democracy activists to remain in-country to lead their burgeoning movement, she accepts.

After this setup, I assumed that I was in for a rousing story of personal sacrifice and determination, set against a backdrop of intense political turmoil and sweeping historical breadth (something along the lines of The Year of Living Dangerously or The Killing Fields). But what follows instead is by-the-numbers; with the dramatic impact of a Powerpoint presentation. Rebecca Frayn’s screenplay takes a Cliff’s Notes approach to Suu Kyi’s life; for a 2 ½ hour film, there are too many unanswered questions and expository holes.

Most significantly, the film is marketed as a great love story…but there is very little passion on display between Thewlis and Yeoh; there is no clue on display as to what sparked the attraction. While it’s possible Thewlis made a choice to play the “stiff upper lip” English archetype, his behavior toward Yeoh plays as formal and detached.

Instead, we’re given an endless series of farewells and reunions, with Thewlis and sons leaving and arriving in taxis, with only Eric Serra’s overbearing orchestral swells on hand to cue us that we’re supposed to be tearing up. And the part of the family’s story that should truly move us, which was Dr. Aris’ death from prostate cancer after spending the final 4 years of his life unsuccessfully petitioning the Burmese government for permission to visit Suu Kyi (under house arrest), is instead rendered like sudsy, almost laughable (if it weren’t so inherently sad in nature) Disease of the Week melodrama.

As I am a fan of his work, I was expecting much more from Besson, who has built his reputation on slickly produced, well-paced and visually inventive films; usually with strong female protagonists (La Femme Nikita, The Fifth Element, The Messenger: The Story of Joan of Arc). What he has delivered here (the opening 10 minutes aside) is a film that, while visually stunning, remains emotionally empty.

Documentary, On Politics

One nation, under duress: They Call it Myanmar ***1/2

August 16, 2015 Dennis Hartley Leave a comment

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on April 7, 2012)

Does a nation have a soul? While there are no definitive answers to such rhetorical questions, I can say that after viewing Robert H. Leiberman’s surprisingly intimate documentary, They Call it Myanmar: Lifting the Curtain, I feel that I have experienced something akin to an enlightening glimpse into the very soul of that country’s beautiful people.

I confess that I previously had not given much thought to the nation formerly known as Burma. I was aware that it is a Southeast Asian country with a history of British colonial rule. I knew it had been seized and occupied by the Japanese during WW 2. I knew that it had gained its independence in 1948 and since been plagued by civil wars. But beyond that, the country’s contemporary sociopolitical milieu was off my radar (as it was, I suspect, of most Westerners) until recent news footage of our Secretary of State embracing the most high-profile figure in Burmese politics, Aung San Suu Kyi.

Secretary Clinton was acknowledging Suu Kyi’s long personal struggle (including 15 years of house arrest) as head of the opposition party that has been attempting to bring democracy to her country, which has been under strict military rule for several decades (some particularly encouraging news emerged just this week, with Suu Kyi and other members of her party winning 43 out of 45 seats in the lower house of the Burmese parliament). Her changes in fortune added some happy synchronicity to Leiberman’s project. Just as he was wrapping production in 2010, he learned of Suu Kyi’s release from house arrest, and arranged for an interview, which he weaves throughout his film.

However, it is important to note this is not a documentary about Aung San Suu Kyi. Leiberman has said that he did not initially set out to make a political film; but as he learned during shooting (which was largely clandestine) it is next to impossible to remain apolitical while documenting a people who live under a totalitarian regime (probably only second to North Korea’s government for its dogged persistence in turning back the clock on its infrastructure) that has very little concern for their health, education or welfare. One theme running throughout is the palpable fear of speaking out (most interviewees requested anonymity). However, this state-mandated insularity is precisely what makes the film such a fascinating journey.

While there is much misery and suffering on display, there is also unexpected beauty; geographical, historical, cultural and metaphysical. What emerges at the forefront of the latter is the spirit and pride of everyday Burmese, who despite living in a state of abject poverty, maintain a Zen-like, “glass half-full” view of their lives that boggles the Western mind (then again…many are Buddhists). I liked this film, because it really made me want to root for the people of Myanmar. It’s a pointed reaffirmation of the power of film; this was basically one guy, armed with a hi-def video camera, and balls of brass. It may not be a huge production, but it sure has a big heart.

Biopic, On Politics, Up the Workers

Run Lula, Run: Lula, Son of Brazil **1/2

August 13, 2015 Dennis Hartley Leave a comment

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on March 10, 2012)

Let’s dispense with this right off the bat: Lula, the Son of Brazil is an unabashed hagiography. Then again, it’s not like co-directors Fabio Barreto and Marcelo Santiago are trying to pretend like their glowing biopic is intended to be interpreted as anything but (especially when you have a tagline like “The story of Brazil’s most beloved president!”). It’s also touted as the highest budgeted Brazilian film production to date, at 5 million dollars (isn’t that like, the catering bill for your typical bloated Hollywood epic these days?). Still, it is hard to find fault with a film about a person whom it is hard to find fault with (yes, I know…no one is beyond reproach).

Indeed, Luis Inacio Lula da Silva’s life journey from dirt-poor shoeshine boy to benevolent world leader (he served as president from 2003-2010) seems tailor-made for the screen, with the major players in his life plucked straight out of Central Casting (sometimes, all you have to do is tell the truth, and no one will believe you). I suspect that Fernando Bonassi, Denise Parana and Daniel Tendler’s screenplay (based on Parana’s book) practically wrote itself. You have the Strong Saintly Mother (Gloria Pires), the Drunken Abusive Father (Milhem Cortaz), and the Childhood Sweetheart (Clio Pires, pulling double duty as The Young Wife Who Dies Tragically).

The film begins in Lula’s birth year, 1945. Lula, his mother Lindu and six siblings are left to fend for themselves after Aristides, his father, leaves (abandons?) the hard-scrabbling farm family to find work in the city. The family reunites when Lula (Felipe Falanga) is seven, after Aristides instructs Lindu to sell the house and land and move to the city (the meager proceeds are just enough to pay for their transportation). The boys are immediately put to work; an enterprising Lula shines shoes and sells flowers on the street.

Lindu secretly enrolls him in school; when Aristides (an illiterate who values work over education) finds out, he is apoplectic. Lindu stands her ground, keeping Lula in school. His teacher, sensing a high aptitude in the youngster empathetic to his poverty, makes an offer to adopt him. The proud Lindu refuses, opting to give all her children a chance at a better life by breaking free from the oppressive Aristides’ toxic orbit for good (you’ll feel like cheering). She gathers up the kids and moves to Sao Paulo, where they fare much better.

We watch Lula (played as an adult by Rui Ricardo Diaz) come of age; he graduates from a technical school, gets a factory job, loses a finger in a lathe mishap, and marries his childhood sweetheart. His first marriage ends tragically, after which he begins (at the encouragement of his brother and to the chagrin of his mother) to gravitate toward leftist politics. And we all know what that inevitably leads to…Lula becomes a (wait for it)…labor activist!

By the time he becomes a union official in the late 70s, he finds himself at loggerheads with the military-controlled government of the time. After officials identify him as one of the prime movers behind a series of major work strikes, he is arrested and jailed. After prison, the increasingly politicized Lula helps create Brazil’s progressive Worker’s Party in the early 80s, and then…and then…the film ends.

Ay, there’s the rub, and the main reason why political junkies may find this slick, well-acted production inspiring on one hand, yet curiously unsatisfying on the other. The intriguing end crawl, highlighting milestones in Lula’s subsequent climb to the top suggests that the filmmakers may have picked the wrong half of his career to cover. I found myself wondering “what happened next?!”, and asking questions like: What did he do to earn declaration as Brazil’s most beloved president, with an approval rating of 80.5% during the final months of his tenure? What inspired President Obama to greet him at the G20 summit with “That’s my man right there…love this guy…the most popular politician on Earth”?

Don’t get me wrong, because I do loves me a stirring, old-fashioned leftist polemic as much as the next progressive pinko; I was righteously “stirred”, and had a lump in my throat many times…but something was lacking. By the time the credits rolled, I didn’t feel I had insight as to what made Lula tick. What did make Lula run? Then again…the answer may lie in the three simple words that Lindu imparts to her beloved son, from her deathbed: “Never give up.”

Family Issues, Historical drama, On Politics, Royal Intrigue

DVD reissue: I, Claudius ****

August 11, 2015 Dennis Hartley Leave a comment

By Dennis Hartley

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on March 31, 2012)

She preys like a Roman with her eyes on fire: Sian Phillips as Livia

I Claudius 35th Anniversary Edition – Acorn Media DVD set

“Political questions, if you go back thousands of years, are ephemeral, not important. History is the same thing over and over again.”

-Woody Allen

35 years ago (best to my hazy recollection), I was living in a house in Fairbanks, Alaska with 4 or 5 (or was it 6 or 7?) of my friends. Being 20-something males, ragingly hormonal and easily sidetracked by shiny objects, it was a rare occasion when all the housemates would be congregated in one room for any period of time. But there was one thing that consistently brought us together. For about a three month period in the fall of 1977, every Sunday at 9pm, we would abruptly drop whatever we were doing (sfx: guitars, bongs, Frisbees, empty Heineken bottles and dog-eared Hunter Thompson paperbacks hitting the floor) and gather round a 13-inch color TV (replete with Reynolds Wrap-reinforced rabbit ears) to rapturously watch I, Claudius on Masterpiece Theatre.

While an opening line of “I, Tiberius Claudius Drusus Nero Germanicus…” could portend more of a snooze-inducing history lecture, rather than 11 hours of must-see-TV, the 1976 BBC series, adapted from Robert Graves’ 1934 historical novel about ancient Rome’s Julio-Claudian dynasty, was indeed the latter, holding U.S. viewers in thrall for its 12-week run. While it is quite possible that at the time, my friends and I were slightly more in thrall with the occasional teasing glimpses of semi-nudity than we were with, say, the beauty of Jac Pulman’s writing, the wonder of the performances and historical complexity of the narrative, over the years I have come to realize that I think I learned everything I needed to know about politics from watching (and re-watching) I, Claudius.

It’s all there…the systemic greed and corruption of the ruling plutocracy, the raging hypocrisy, the grandstanding, glad-handing and the back-stabbing (in this case, both figurative and literal). Seriously, over the last 2000 years, not much has changed in the political arena (this election year in particular finds us tunic-deep in bread and circuses; by Jove, what a clown show). Although it’s merely a happy coincidence that a newly minted 35^th anniversary edition of the series was released on DVD this week by Acorn Media, the timing couldn’t be more apt. I’ve been finding it particularly amusing the past few days to zip through the nightly network newscasts on the DVR, then immediately follow it up with an episode of I, Claudius so I can chuckle (or weep) over the parallels.

Kawkinkydinks with the ongoing decline of the American empire notwithstanding, the series holds up remarkably well. In fact, it still kicks major gluteus maximus on most contemporary TV fare (including HBO and Showtime). What’s most impressive is what they were able to achieve with such austere production values; the writing and the acting is so strong that you barely notice that there are only several simple sets used throughout (compare with Starz’s visually striking but otherwise chuckle-headed Spartacus series).

It’s hard to believe that Derek Jacobi was in his mid-30s when he took on the lead role; not only does he convincingly “age” from 20s to 60s, but subtly unveils the grace and intelligence that lies behind Claudius’s outwardly afflicted speech and physicality. Another standout in this marvelous cast is Sian Phillips, with her deliciously wicked performance as Livia (wife of Augustus) who will stoop to anything in order to achieve her political goals (Machiavelli’s subsequent work was doo-doo, by comparison). George Baker excels as her long-suffering son, Tiberius, as does Brian Blessed, playing Augustus. And John Hurt’s take on the mad Caligula is definitive, in my book. The new transfer on the Acorn release is excellent, making this DVD set well worth your denarius.