Hot Docs 2013: Buying Sex

After the screening of the Hot Docs documentary Buying Sex, there was a Q & A with the directors of the film. Anyone in the audience could ask whatever they wanted about the film – like why male or transgender prostitutes weren’t mentioned or considered, or why the directors didn’t have any scenes in Amsterdam. But the Q & A period wasn’t like that. Instead, it was mostly a series of long-winded comments on either side of the debate. Everyone was very passionate when they spoke, and a few debates broke out in the audience between comments. But what I noticed was that the people who were speaking were either unmoved by the documentary or had their beliefs reinforced. There wasn’t really any new ground tread or mistaken assumptions raised. The documentary exists, but it doesn’t illuminate the issues.

A recent documentary I saw a few months ago was Client 9: The Rise and Fall of Eliot Spitzer. The basic story is pretty well-known: the governor of New York resigns amid the scandalous revelation that he was a member, and frequent client, of an upscale escort service. That was essentially the entire story told in the media: another stupid politician getting his just desserts. But the documentary told a different story and gave a fresh perspective of Spitzer. Rather than being a horny rube he was an effective, intelligent and tenacious prosecutor who had his sights set on the alleged corruption of Wall Street, making powerful enemies in the process. The documentary implies that financial moguls may have played a role in the demise of Spitzer’s political career to continue their unsavoury practices. But the documentary is important because it gives a different side of the story from that found in the media. It makes you question whether the personal life of a politician should derail a campaign against financial corruption, or if their personal life should even be in question at all.

Buying Sex doesn’t really shed new light on the issue of prostitution and decriminalization. They do have some interesting perspectives – especially from activists who propose a “third way” to address the problem by criminalizing demand akin to the Swedish model of law – but it’s not very persuasive or enlightening.

There’s a couple brief moments in the film that I really liked, and would have preferred to see a feature-length documentary developed around. I think it was one of the prostitutes in New Zealand (where prostitution is decriminalized and brothels are ordinary apple-pie businesses) who said that she felt more exploited working long hours for minimum wage than selling sex to clients. Another comment was that prostitutes aren’t “selling their bodies” (the common rhetoric for why its immoral), rather, they are selling “services.” I think these are interesting perspectives, and it would have been fascinating for the documentary to explore this route (why is prostitution bad or good) rather than asking whether it should be decriminalized or not.

If the measure of a great documentary is the passionate discussion it generates afterwards, then Buying Sex is a good one. But I think there has to be more than just passionate discussion – you need to gain a new perspective or have your assumptions challenged.

Grade: C+

The Impossible

There’s a moment of pure helplessness in The Impossible. It happens when the characters are swimming and splashing in the hotel pool, unaware of the increasing wind and the fleeing birds. And then they see it – or rather, they see hundred foot palm trees being toppled by an invisible steamroller. The wave. Everyone stands still for a moment. It’s inevitable. It will hit them. And there’s nothing they can do about it.

The tsunami sequence is devastating and horrific. The actors are tossed around like rag dolls and the speed of the water makes every object into a potential life-ending weapon. The worst injury in the film comes from one character running into a branch. Yes, just a plain old branch. It’s terrifying to watch in a film – and unimaginable to think about what it was like in real life.

The Impossible is based on a single family’s survival of one of the most devastating natural disasters in history. It is not an exhaustive account of the 2004 tsunami, nor does it attempt to be. Following the old adage that “one death is a tragedy, one thousand is a statistic,” the film focuses its efforts on a single, personal level to sustain a gripping and emotional tale throughout its running time. This isn’t to say that the disaster is overlooked on the grand scale – there are many shots of the ravaged landscape, overcrowded hospitals, and conversations with other survivors who aren’t as hopeful that their families are still alive. It’s just framed in way to be a singular experience, as it should be. I don’t think a single film could ever encompass everything that happened on that day, or act as the seminal tome of the event.

I always find it hard to talk about the acting or technical aspects of a “good” film. I firmly believe that when a movie works, the “strings” (plotting, editing, special effects, etc.) are invisible. What that means is that you forget that your watching a movie because you’re so drawn to the story. Of course, that reaction to a film is entirely based on the complex interaction of the “strings” evoking that response. For me, it just seems like there’s nothing left to say. The acting is fantastic, the effects and editing are great, and the plot moves briskly. It’s an amazing film.

The Impossible is a hopeful story. There aren’t any contrived “twists” (i.e. There are no thugs/looters taking advantage of the state of emergency and threatening the survivors) and each character is just trying to help others, in whatever way they can. It’s simply about surviving the worst possible day in your life. And the film presents a version of humanity in contrast to that seen on the daily news: that when everything is stripped away, we’re fundamentally good.

Grade: A

Sidenote: There’s been some bashing that The Impossible is “whitewashed” for changing the nationality of the central family from Spanish to English – despite not changing anything else. It’s entirely misguided and missing the point. Especially since the actual survivors do not seem to take issue with it (the mother actually chose Naomi Watts to play her, according to Wikipedia).

Hot Docs 2013: Tales from the Organ Trade

I never knew what an arm looked like after its been on dialysis. For a person with kidney disease, they have to be hooked up to the dialysis machine every other day for eight hours to clean their blood. It’s a half-measure: it won’t cure their disease; it will only prolong their life as they wait to get a donor (if they can even get a donor). Dialysis requires the insertion of a needle into a vein in your arm to draw the blood out. After six years of treatment, you get a bruised welt and a raised hole where the needle is placed. For one woman, eighteen years on dialysis, she has a protruding bump (it looks like an oozing tumour) that has the unfortunate side-effect of sometimes bursting – like it did at a family dinner one night, gushing blood. It’s an absolutely horrible disease. There is only one cure – a fresh, healthy kidney. And for the sick, they have two choices while on dialysis: wait an unforeseeable length of time for a donor, or buy a kidney on the black market. Tales from the Organ Trade investigates that very dilemma.

This is probably the most well-balanced and even-handed documentary I’ve ever seen. It doesn’t take sides and leaves it up to the viewer to decide where they stand on the issue. Talking to such a diverse group of people – from those who sell their organs, the doctors and surgeons who perform these operations, the dogged prosecutors trying to shut the trade down, and the ordinary individuals just looking to prolong their lives, the film allows every side to share their story, revealing the morally ambiguous truth about this issue.

When we think of organ trafficking, we think of organized crime, organ harvesters, and the exploitation of the poor and the indigent. But it’s more complicated than that. The first scenes in the film are shots of various Filipino men, each lifting up his shirt to reveal the exact same lower abdominal scar. They all made the same conscious decision – to sell their kidneys on the black market for money. It’s a shocking image, presented plainly, without suggesting answers – only questions. Like: Is this wrong? Were these men exploited? Or was this simply a conscious choice, made out of desperation?

The first part of the film is challenging our expectations. Most of the donors in the organ trade decide to sell their kidneys. They are not coerced into doing so (although the argument is made that their circumstances – extreme poverty and desperation – are coercion enough. Why else would all the donors come from poor countries rather than wealthy ones?). There were several stories about what these men did with the money afterwards. Some started businesses and made a better life for their families, others bought homes, some just spent it on drinking and paying off debts, and others got more deeply involved in the black market as “Organ traders” – acting as intermediaries for other individuals looking to sell their kidneys.

But then there are the other stories – of a man who sold his kidney, only to realize shortly afterwards that he has kidney disease and is in desperate need of a transplant himself. Or the other donors who agree to sell for a certain price, only to be paid less than agreed upon after the organ is taken out (certainly we can argue that they have been exploited at this point?). So whether these “donors” are exploited is a bit of a gray area – almost all the subjects in the film have chosen to sell their organs, but in the circumstances of their lives, did they really have a choice?

This is an incredible film. I would characterize it as more of a piece of investigative journalism than anything else, and the efforts of the filmmakers of tracking down all the various supporting players and following up on leads probably deserves an entire documentary in itself. They track down (and get interviews with!) two of doctors wanted by Interpol for performing the illegal operations. It’s especially interesting to watch the interview with the surgeon vilified as “Doctor Frankenstein” in the international press, who seems a lot more mild-mannered than the papers make him out to be (how he agreed to be recorded and interviewed: he took the filmmaker out to dinner with his parents and family. Only after his mother told him that she trusted and liked the filmmaker did he agree to speak on camera). They also track down an important donor who is a key link in the prosecutor’s case and get unprecedented access to key players in the black market.

Selling your organ is illegal. Donating it for purely altruistic reasons is legal. The money trumps the altruistic reasons: donating for altruistic reasons, but being compensated for doing so, amounts to selling your organs, and is illegal. The question is: did we get the ethics of this right, or did we get it wrong? Tales from the Organ Trade will demonstrate what a complicated question that is.

Grade: A

Hot Docs 2013: Terms and Conditions May Apply

There are generally two types of documentaries: “story” documentaries and “message” documentaries. Story documentaries generally tell just that – a story or a slice of life tale (see: The Impostor, Searching for Sugar Man). Message documentaries, on the other hand, exist to promote awareness about an issue (i.e. A Place at the Table, and this film, Terms and Conditions May Apply). The problem with a message documentary is that its greatness exists solely by how well it convinces and persuades the audience. If the message falls flat, there’s really nothing else to fall back on.

This is a breezy and fun little documentary. Reportedly revealing the sinister machinations behind those pesky online agreements we sign to use Facebook, Twitter, and the like, the film uses clips from popular television shows (South Park, Parks and Recreation), original animation, and sound bites from Mark Zuckerberg, Eric Schmidt (CEO of Google) and a member of the “hacktivist” group Anonymous to tell its tale. It’s quick and watchable, but the underlying message, and the examples used to support it, don’t seem all that terrifying or persuasive.

The message is pretty much this: privacy in the digital age does not exist. The terms and conditions we agree to allow these companies to sell the data to third-parties (advertisers and others) and also act as Orwellian surveillance tools to prevent crime. “Prevention” is the key word for the film – how do you “prevent” a crime before it has even occurred (cue: clip from Minority Report)?

The examples that are used I didn’t find to be terribly persuasive in supporting “opt-out” legislation for T and Cs. One example used is that of a comedian on Facebook, who, after a bad day at the Apple store, quotes a line from the movie Fight Club on his personal page. A line that says he may “snap” and go to the Apple store with a high-powered assault rifle and open fire. A few hours later, the police arrive at his door and search his apartment. An overreaction? Yes. Sinister? Not really. Another example is a guy on Twitter who is going to visit the US and tweets to his friends that he is off to “destroy America.” He gets held up at Customs for six hours because of this. An overreaction? Yep. But also not sinister – these are public tweets that anyone can read. To me, these just seem to be examples of how not to use social media, rather than the nefarious effects of social media.

Additionally, privacy not existing in the digital age cuts both ways. Just look at Wikileaks (featured in the film) where sensitive government information can be received and published effortlessly. There’s also talk about the Petraeus affair and how e-mails and digital documents were used by the FBI to uncover that – despite having no bearing on national security or Petraeu’s effectiveness in his position. If we don’t have privacy on the Internet, the big corporations and the government doesn’t either. It’s a free-for-all.

The film also seems to ignore some pertinent counter-points. In London, thousands of security cameras were installed to capture footage of everyone walking around the streets. The public wasn’t outraged by this. Why? The film doesn’t ask that question (I would argue it has to do with the reasonable expectation of privacy – i.e. Being outside we aren’t as concerned about being “seen” whereas with online documents like e-mails we expect that others cannot access them without permission). As well, there’s no discussion or consideration why these terms and conditions exist. There’s probably several reasons – some of it is so these “free” services can actually make money to run, other terms so the service is compliant with the law. Rather than investigating their purpose, it’s pretty much just presented as a vast conspiracy and left at that.

Terms and Conditions May Apply bombards the audience with facts, interviews, and examples about privacy on the Internet, but fails to provide any counter-arguments to their message. Basically, if you go into the film thinking Google, Facebook, and the government are evil, then you’ll be rewarded with that viewpoint. If not, the film won’t be able to convince you otherwise.

Grade: C+

Sidenote: I think the film raises some interesting concerns (like how warrants should be required for asking for information from third-parties), but doesn’t effectively explore them.

Spring Breakers

I think the concept for this movie probably went a little something like this: director Harmony Korine had a dream about a ski-mask covered, fluorescent bikini-clad girl holding an AK-47 and decided that was an indelible cinematic image (it is). The plot is mostly an afterthought – existing primarily to get from one sequence to the next. And it’s an incredible booze, drugs, and crime-fuelled trip.

There are only two reactions to this film: it’s either an offensive off-putting paean to immorality, unwholesome family values and violence or it’s an intoxicating, hypnotic and darkly funny experience. I fall into the latter camp, so take what I say with a grain of salt. If you hate the movie within the first fifteen minutes, I doubt that there’s anything in last seventy-five that will change your opinion (unless you really like James Franco).

There’s no real point talking about the story, except to say that the casting is an inspired choice. Primarily drawn from the ranks of Disney, the public reputations of the leads (Selena Gomez, Vanessa Hudgens, Ashley Benson, Rachel Korine) work to increase your disbelief of what’s happening on-screen. Rather than unknown actresses snorting cocaine and shooting thugs, these are icons of wholesomeness doing so. It’s a headfirst fall from grace.

Despite the central conceit of “Disney Girls Gone Wild,” it’s James Franco who steals the show and elevates the movie with an infectious, unrestrained glee. Playing a drug dealer-cum-rapper nicknamed “Alien” (real name: Allan), Franco fully commits to the role that involves dreadlocks, terrible body art, an undefinable accent (Gangsta?) and – in one sequence – fellatio with a pistol. He’s an unapologetic moral anarchist oozing charisma. It’s no wonder that the spring breakers get roped into his underworld lifestyle; he makes it sound so appealing.

There’s so many great sequences in this film – a Britney Spears robbing montage, Franco’s “Look at all ma shit” monologue, and the climax of gun-toting bikini-clad spring breakers in black-light. Whatever your opinion of Spring Breakers is, one thing has to be conceded: it’s not an easily forgotten, or forgettable, film. And in an ocean of mediocrity, that’s quite an accomplishment.

Grade: B+

Sidenote: Spring Breakers is a pure wish-fulfilment fantasy. If you think the end sequence of the film is unbelievable, take another look at the opening scene. That’s just as much of a fantasy as becoming a gun-wielding bad ass.

Hot Docs 2013: The Human Scale

If you build it, they will come…outside.

The Human Scale focuses on urban planning and architecture and how that affects the way human beings interact. It’s an important film because it is estimated that by 2050, 80% of the world’s population will live in cities. How those cities are designed, and how they should be designed, to accommodate this massive influx of people, is the discussion of the film.

Historically, the Western cityscape was designed for cars and traffic. Planning was measured on how fast an individual could get around the city in a car, and how bad traffic was. This was the measure of a “good” or “bad” city – if traffic was horrible, it was bad. Otherwise, it was good. The problem with this type of planning is that it doesn’t take into account (1) the people who don’t have/can’t afford cars and (2) how people interact with the environment. One of the most telling examples of the film is when an architect describes how the perfect roads are built to maintain a 60km/hr speed for cars. Contrast this with the average walking speed of a human being at 5km/hr and you can see the disconnect. Cities built for vehicles, but not people.

This car-centric design has had side-effects. People in cities are more likely to stay indoors once they get home. We don’t really know our neighbours. The length of time it takes to get from one place to the next reinforces our isolation. Designing a city is an incredible and fascinating task.

The majority of the film details some of the small things that people want from their cities (the architects conducted city-wide surveys, like in New York City where there were over half a million responses that researchers sifted through and codified). What do people want? Public spaces, more places to sit, pedestrian-only streets, bike lanes, etc. These are all relatively little, simple, and inexpensive (especially in contrast to building another highway) changes.

What’s great about this film is there is no single answer to the problem. Creating public spaces isn’t going to magically fix everything (or even anything). The best line comes near the close of the film when one architect describes what they’re doing as making “invitations.” Having a pedestrian walkway, or more areas to sit does not mean that people will actually take advantage of them – all the designers can do is make the spaces more “inviting” to do so. I really like this analysis. It means that while these are great ideas, their success depends on other people accepting them.

Grade: A

Sidenote: The one truth that emerges from the film is that building more roads will not decrease traffic – rather, it will increase it. The simple calculation seems to be that if there are more roads connecting a city, individuals will choose to live further from it and purchase a vehicle to get to the city. And because there are more roads, there is less space for bike traffic and walking to a destination could take an interminable amount of time, so less people use these alternative methods.

Searching for Sugar Man

I’ve been going through a bit of a documentary binge lately. I was never the biggest fan of the documentary – too often they seem like the adulterated version of an after-school special – but the genre’s been going through something of a renaissance. The traditional documentary is talking head interview footage interspersed with stock and historical footage to get its point across. Contemporary documentaries are more interested in telling stories rather than sermons. I can easily say that a few of the best movies I’ve seen this year (that haven’t necessarily come out this year) are documentaries. I’m thinking about Undefeated, a cinema verite (the pompous version of saying “a reality television style”) look at a high school football team, The Imposter – which I’ve already spoken of – and now Searching for Sugar Man, the 2013 Oscar winner for Best Documentary.

I didn’t really expect to like Sugar Man all that much (music documentaries have never really appealed to me) but its a great story about artistry and an inadvertent endorsement of the connecting power of the Internet. It makes you wonder if only Van Gogh had Facebook in his time he might have died appreciated and wealthy rather than penniless and a failure.

All you need to know about Sugar Man is this – fans of a American musician in South Africa embark on a decades-long search to learn details about their favourite artist – a man only known as “Rodriguez” (yes, no first name) – whose album Cold Fact was an enormous hit in the country (as popular as the Beatles’ and the Rolling Stones’ albums), and who died years earlier onstage in mysterious circumstances. That’s it, don’t read anything else, and go watch it. Oh, and the music is amazing.

The passion of the “Searchers” is infectious. It doesn’t matter if you don’t actually like Rodriguez’s music – because that’s merely a sideshow to what the movie is truly about. It’s about the fans of an artist who don’t have access to Wikipedia or the resources that we have today – where every detail about a celebrity is at your fingertips. Instead, they have to follow breadcrumbs, determining where the label who printed the album is located, deciphering the lyrics of Rodriguez’s music to look for clues as to where he lives or comes from, and sharing that information with a community of like-minded individuals. It’s a documentary about the power of a mystery, and it drew me in. Just like the South African fans, I was curious to discover more about this elusive individual, even though I had no idea who he was before I started the film.

An incredible documentary, well-deserving of the awards and accolades it has received.

Grade: A