Film: The War on Democracy & Queimada

UTV screened John Pilger's documentary 'The War on Democracy' last night at eleven pm. I think the time is relevant because clearly the schedulers decided it would only appeal to a minority of viewers but this seemed to defeat the film's purpose. Even for someone like me who has at best a superficial knowledge of the subject, there was nothing new on offer - for example a lot of the Venezuela section was already dealt with in 'The revolution will not be televised', the Irish documentary that chronicled the failed 2002 coup - so I can only surmise Pilger in the style adopted intended an introduction to the widest possible audience. How strange, and how heartening and of course how unlikely, it would have been to see it put on three hours earlier after Coronation Street. As for the content, irrespective of his allegiance, as a journalist, Pilger should have given Chavez a harder time on the issue of poverty which he easily side-stepped with aspirational stuff about giving people dignified lives. And I was surprised that Pilger allowed himself to be bullied by the obnoxious retired CIA man, who came close as it was possible to get to a carciature. You could imagine him popping up in 'Dr Strangelove' screaming about the world needing to recognise that America was not going to take 'any messing.'
For a subtler dissection of imperialism, I would recommend Queimada, which was shown as part of the Marlon Brando season at the IFI last weekend. Directed by Gilles Pontecorvo (Battle of Algiers), and set in the 19th century on a fictional Caribbean island, Brando plays Sir William Walker, an emissary of the British Crown, who has decided it is in its economic interest to foment a slave revolution on the island so as to undermine the Portuguese ruling class. Walker selects Jose Dolores, a street wastrel, to lead the charge but once the Portuguese are ousted, Walker persuades Dolores to throw down his arms and accept the rule of the businessmen who export fruit and sugar from the island. Dolores and his men are freed but they have to return to work on the plantation. Ten years later, Walker is back: this time, at the behest of the fruit company that controls the island, to stamp out another Dolores revolution. The slaves are free but as workers are treated like slaves and worse. The rising, which threatens the value of shares in the export company, is vanquished in the same way that the Portuguese initially wiped out the indigenous people - with a scorched earth policy. What I found remarkable about the film was the manner in which Walker instills ideas of freedom and dignity in Dolores in order to achieve an economic end. Dolores is dared to dream of the rights of man and civilisation while Walker is taking care of business, and when the economic rationale shifts, those dreams of freedom and equality are quickly jettisoned. Naturally there is a contemporary resonance to all this, as is witnessed in the fluctuating relationships between imperial powers and their client states. Ennio Morricone provides an unusual score for the film and Brando is excellent.

Film: Collateral Damage & Stepford Wives

In an inspired piece of scheduling, TV3 and RTE contrived to allow hapless terrestial viewers to catch up with two real stinkers on Wednesday night. First up was Collateral Damage, which was quietly ditched in the aftermath of 9/11 on the basis that it would be insensitive to release a film dealing with a domestic (I mean the US of course) terror attack. Having seen the first hour of it, I can say it would have been insensitive to release it full stop given what ridiculous codswallop it is. Lacking any of the humour or operatic violence of his earlier efforts, Schwarzenegger, playing a fireman trying to avenge the death of his wife and son, is a spent force while John(s) Turturro and Leguizamo look like they have been forced to show up as payment for losing a large bet. The only thing worth noting is that in the wake of the attack by Colombian El Lobo, a representative from a Latin American solidarity group appears on TV to defend the right of Colombians to protect themselves against American influence in the region, a platform unlikely to have been afforded to an Islamic group after 9/11.
Tiring of Arnie's wholly unbelievable search for justice, I flicked over to Stepford Wives, which, despite my low expectations, was even worse. How to describe this bilge? It is more than just a leaden, consistently unfunny mix of Sex and the City and Desperate Housewives; something darker is afoot. I started to think of Jacques Barzun and Allan Bloom, prophets of a doomed Western civilisation. I used to dismiss them as conservative snobs, elitists who refused to acknowledge the pleasures of popular entertainment.But maybe they were right after all, maybe cultural relativism and irony is junk and in reality all that is left of modern culture is this awful, trashy, dead film.