TheDocHierarchy Reviews

Elevate (2011)

Failing to rise to the heights of Hoop Dreams

[6/10 · 15 April 2012]

Nestled against the Atlantic in West Africa, Senegal is a long way away from the chapels and gyms of up-state, private American high schools. Nevertheless, a factory line has been established for just that journey. SEEDs Academy, located in the country's capital Dakar, is a program for the nation's elite teenage basketballers, founded and overseen by a scout for the Dallas Mavericks. A proved success, recruiters from well-funded schools all over the States trek to SEEDs to find the star capable of driving them to championship success. Anne Buford's 'Elevate' introduces four such graduates offered scholarships to the US, tracing their passage from the dusty Dakar streets to the well-manicured lawns of the American educational elite.

Perhaps conscious of the need to differentiate 'Elevate' from Steve James' inimitable 'Hoop Dreams', Buford works hard to highlight the cultural leap taken by the young men, rather than focusing purely on the broader goal of NBA stardom. Cutting back and forth between up-state New York and the streets of Senegal therefore, the pressure of settling in is shown in a stark light. Assane, a softly-spoken giant at 7'0, is shown shuffling nervously in and out of compulsory chapel services, withdrawing to his room to pray silently, his Muslim faith a rarity among the WASP population. Aziz, initially shown as the charismatic leader of the SEEDs group in Senegal, is a shell of his former self in the US, awkwardly misinterpreting his teammates well-intended questions and forced to eat away from his colleagues during Ramadan. Personally, these insights are the film's high-point, the intrigue being how they adjust to a foreign world and culture - away from the court - and only then, how those adjustments affect their on court performance.

Unfortunately, James' shadow returns as each of the men begin to suffer setbacks to their dreams (a knee injury to Aziz almost hauntingly similar to that suffered by William Gates) and their resolve is brought into question. Somewhat programmatically, the knee injury is followed by a relatively benign montage where Aziz is shown looking disconsolate on the bench as his team go on to lose game after game without him. Why this is important I'm not sure. Furthermore, Buford does not help herself by deciding to track four subjects, rather than a more manageable two or three. Hoop Dreams was almost twice as long as Elevate, and only had the two subjects in Agee and Gates. In Buford's case, the extended cast leaves Elevate feeling short and rushed.

Maybe it is too harsh to view Elevate in the shadow of Hoop Dreams, but the comparisons are inevitable and necessary. Ultimately, in such a comparison, Buford's effort comes up well short.

American Teacher (2011)

A missed opportunity.

[7/10 · 15 April 2012]

Ambitious in scope and sweet in nature, American Teacher ultimately fails to convince the viewer of the validity of its central argument. Funded by a non-profit called The Teacher Salary Project, the film attempts to argue that the root of America's education crisis lies in a workforce (3.2 million in 2010) who are undervalued and therefore driven away by the combination of a lack of financial support and a lack of respect for the teaching profession. American Teacher's solution? Fairly simply, pay them more.

Rhena Jasey, one of the five teachers documented, offers the most convincing case. A young Harvard graduate, she decided to take a job in teaching to the bemusement of her peers, all of whom had jobs in lined up in law, finance and medicine with starting salaries well in excess of her own $35,000. Smart, grounded and at ease in her classroom, 'Ms. Jasey" is the kind of teacher we'd all want for our children, and the inference is made that if public schools could offer more competitive salaries and promotion prospects, more of Jasey's ilk could be attracted to a career in the classroom.

Thankfully, more evidence is found to support the argument than merely Jasey's own testimony. Graphics (if you've ever seen Waiting for Superman, they are frustratingly similar) are rolled out to lament the United States' current education problems vis-a-vis the rest of the world. Finland is once again held up as the exemplar, a state in which teaching is the most sought-after profession and, coincidentally or not, a state where teaching salaries match up competitively with any other line of work. If the film has our attention at this point, it lets itself down through a combination of not answering the obvious question - where is this money to be found? - and allowing itself to be quagmired in the sob stories of the current class of underpaid teachers.

That is not to belittle their situations, but to question why three-quarters of the film was spent describing the anguish caused by the current system and only a quarter spent on the actual solution proffered, particularly when the former is known (if ignored) while the latter is supposedly novel. 'American Teacher' is well-intentioned, and its subjects are as selfless as they are important, but when addressing a matter of policy, you can't allow the details to be lost in the emotion.

This was a missed opportunity.

Zizek! (2005)

Less biopic than soapbox.

[5/10 · 15 April 2012]

Towards the end of Astra Taylor's 'Zizek!', the Slovenian philosopher is convinced by his son to put the Lion King on TV. As the child squeals with excitement, Zizek throws his head back, turns to the camera and laments 'oh now he's going to act all narcissistically amused'. Without delving into the inner-workings of Zizek's scholarship, for such a pursuit is so far beyond the means of this writer it would be a joke to even attempt it, the off-hand remark goes some way to encapsulating the enigma and eccentricity of the renowned Lacanian/Marxist author.

The film itself probably struggles between providing a platform for Zizek to opine on modern society, and in doing so alienating the 99% who won't truly understand what he has to say (*puts hand up*), and delving into the psyche of a truly remarkable mind. One does not have to be a philosophy major to marvel at the language Zizek uses and the speed at which he constructs arguments and rattles off examples that ground his work in our quotidian existence. At just 71 minutes, there is no harm in the being restricted to the latter, but there is a certain frustration in being taken to the verge of understanding an argument and then abruptly swept off to a different corner of Zizek's scholarship.

The filmmaker's synopsis describes Zizek! as: 'Never ceasing to observe the paradoxes that underpin our perception of reality, little goes untheorized over the course of the film, particularly Zizek's recurring themes -- ideology, belief, revolution, and love.' Beware the creative license taken there, for much goes untheorized, but expect to be provoked to think. Be switched on if you want to watch it.

Marathon Boy (2010)

Losing sight of what really matters.

[8/10 · 15 April 2012]

Forced into the hands of renowned Judo coach Biranchi Das by a mother unable to look after him, Budhia Singh was an ordinary, if especially foul-mouthed, child, with a particularly bleak future. Ordered to run laps of the judo area by Das one morning, the three-year old Singh did not stop until his coach returned hours later; expert enough to recognize sporting talent when he saw it, Das took the young tearaway under his arm and set course for Olympic success. Gemma Atwal's Marathon Boy is the tale of how the coach's dream was cruelled at every step by over-zealous child welfare officials, a corrupt political establishment and Das' own narcissism.

Atwal's documentary is not neutral; early on she establishes herself firmly in camp with Das, who without accepting a cent from state coffers, operates a Judo school that also functions as an orphanage for slum children like Budhia Singh. The relationship between coach and protégé is shown to be warmer and more intimate than the description proffered by Child Welfare officials, who are quickly drawn by the frenzied media attention to Singh's exertions (he had run numerous marathons by the time he turned 4). Banning the state's young star from running, but allowing him to stay in the custody of his coach (soon-to-be father), the state challenges the machismo within Das. Unfazed, he refuses to accept the end of the Olympic dream - but whose dream is it really? Does Singh, at 4 or 5, really know what Olympic participation would mean, other than pleasing his coach? Drawing on footage from over five years, Das is portrayed as the flawed hero at the heart of a saga that quickly grows out of hand. His own friends and family essentially narrate the footage revealing the relentlessness with which he attacks the officials that prevent Budhia from running and, by extension therefore, prevent Das from having the last laugh in his running battle with the authorities. In a state and society so clearly corrupt and unwilling to accept such open brinkmanship, Das' fate looms well before he is in fact killed.

The tragedy, as the film's final shots of Budhia in a private school and with a sporting scholarship show, is the blatant pettiness of the whole struggle. Das fell victim not to the state but his own ego. The state did not wish to see Singh's ability curtailed, nothing would please them more than a local sporting star; they wished only for Das to admit his subservience to officialdom, something he was unwilling to do. Does he deserve admiration for his courage, if that was what it was, to stand up to a system that desired such obsequious behaviour? Or is the real tragedy, as I believe, that he couldn't look past the loss of face to see that it was in both his and Budhia's best interests to accept the state of affairs, however morally corrupt? I'll be following Budhia's fate closely. Regardless of who coaches him, the boy can really run.

Concluding Thought: Agassi, Woods, Beckham...they all started at similar ages. Singh's flaw was not his age, it was his sport. We look upon the exertions of running somehow differently.

Khodorkovsky (2011)

Fighting the system you helped establish

[7/10 · 6 April 2012]

In 2003, Russian oil magnate Mikhael Khodorkovsky was arrested on charges of fraud by the Putin government. The owner of oil giant Yukos, one of the largest companies to emerge from the privatisation of Russian state assets during the 1990s, Khodorkovsky later had a prominent and public role as a financier of the Russian opposition in the 2000s. Quickly found guilty, the oligarch was sentenced to nine years in prison, later extended to twelve. From prison, Khodorkovsky has waged a campaign in Western media to raise awareness of the injustice of his incarceration and the corruption of the Russian political system that permitted such a turn of events.

Cyril Tuschi's 'Khodorkovsky' is part-biopic, part-criminal investigation, seeking to uncover (against substantial odds) both who the real Khodorkovsky was and whether his well-publicised trial was political posturing on the behest of Putin or an accurate reflection of the murky dealings of the Russian oil industry - an industry borne out of the questionable auctions of the Yeltsin government in the 1990s. Khodorkovsky, in a manner similar to his fellow oligarchs, acquired Yukos in 1995 at one such state auction, paying well below the market value. Soon acquiring a reputation for being a perennial corporate governance abuser, Yukos (and its billionaire owner) underwent a volte face at the turn of the millennium. As it's transparency began to encourage immediate investment. the share price saw a swift upward turn. Simultaneously, on the advice of an American PR firm, Khodorkovsky launched "Open Russia', investing $100 million in Russian education projects. By 2002, Khodorkovsky was both the world's richest man under 40 and the symbol for sound civic governance in a Russia still blighted by corruption and inequality.

Though rich and powerful enough to brush shoulders with the oil magnates of the world, Khodorkovsky's mistake was to take that attitude, that perceived arrogance, and impose it upon a Russian political elite not yet ready to accept their subservience to the new business elite. Specifically, Khodorkovsky butted heads with Putin, ignoring the President's plea for the select group of oil oligarchs to stay out of state politics entirely; associating himself closely with the opposition to Putin's iron-fisted rule, Khodorkovsky emerged as a powerful motor to the campaign offering a increasingly popular alternative. His days were numbered.

Though no saint himself, Khodorkovsky's arrest and incarceration emerge as a representation of everything still wrong with Russian politics. The cronyism expected of the Russian oligarchs in return for ease of operation betray the long road left to transparency, for which Putin remains a sturdy barrier. For as long as he remains behind bars (and Putin remains in power), Khodorkovsky may question his decision to return to Russia (many others sought exile around the same time), but there is hope that he will use the experience to justify a run for office once released. Until then, he waits.

Concluding Thought: Brilliantly paced. Difficult, complex topic rendered manageable.

Bombay Beach (2011)

Need a quantum of solace?

[8/10 · 6 April 2012]

Once a saline oasis for the Californian elite, Bombay Beach is one of a number of former resort towns dotted around the inland Salton Sea, fashioned in 1905 when heavy rainfall caused the Colorado River to breach its banks. Fish were first introduced in the 1930s, and by the 1950s the tourist trade was booming; Sinatra would perform in the area and Eisenhower would also make an appearance. By 1970 however, the former hotspot was deserted. Rising water levels had destroyed much of the infrastructure, and further investment dried up entirely. Har'el's 'Bombay Beach' explores what is left of the town, a refuge for the lost, the senile and the sick. And yet, in their desire to escape the reality of that where they have come, Bombay Beach recoups its image as a destination of choice, of value - it may not offer much, but its inhabitants seek the solace and contemplation its isolation offers.

Love Free or Die (2012)

It's not the size of the man, it's the size of the fight in the man.

[7/10 · 25 March 2012]

In 2008, the Anglican Communion met in Lambeth, England for their decennial conference. All consecrated Bishops were invited to the assembly bar one, New Hampshire's Gene Robinson. As the Communion's first (and only) gay bishop, not only was his invitation withdrawn but he was actively and forcibly prevented from participating in any part of the conference (including, in one farcical scene, entering Canterbury Cathedral). Unwavered, Robinson journeys to the UK to publicise his forced isolation, speaking at fringe events around the Conference.

Seen as a microcosm of the wider's gay community's struggle for acceptance, Robinson's battle against the odds is fitting. He is in a long-term, stable relationship with his partner, is a loving father to two daughters (from a previous marriage) and has the blessing and love of his own parish, yet continues to both suffer abuse for his way of life, and come up against scriptural barriers to gay progression in the wider Anglican community. Whilst there is a sense of inevitability about the Church's acceptance of a homosexual lifestyle, it still takes courageous and strong-willed advocates like Robinson to drag them into modernity, kicking and screaming if need be.

If one aspect bothered me, it was that aside from calm, if disjointed, excuses from Archbishop Rowan Williams and the tearful explanation of a female Bishop, the question of marrying Robinson's agenda with scriptural authority is not explored in any depth. Director Macky Alston's point may be that Robinson's story is about what is morally right, rather than scripturally acceptable, but when the opposition points so obstinately to Biblical scripture, their case requires addressing.

That said, Love Free or Die is still a powerful proponent of a good cause, and if it succeeds in ensuring the Anglican Communion stays in touch with the reality on the streets, all the better. Robinson's charisma and enthusiasm is infectious, and if his faith were shared by more of his Episcopal or Anglican brethren, the Church would not be seen as the backward, slow-moving institution that many (including Robinson) consider it to be.

American: The Bill Hicks Story (2009)

How the British have always appreciated true comedy.

[7/10 · 15 March 2012]

Bill Hicks did not live an extraordinary life. Born into a middle-class suburban home with doting parents and overachieving siblings, the teen found his calling in furnishing extraordinary insights into the ordinary life that he, and most other Americans in the 70s and 80s, led. Getting his start as a teen comic in a local Texan comedy club, he was the young upstart coming at issues from a fresh angle, the ease and confidence with which he delivers his jokes distinguishing him as a special talent.

Dropping out of school and chasing the dream in LA, Hicks struggles with failure and fitting in with what the world expects of his humour. Falling into patterns of drug abuse and alcoholism, his comedy mirrored an outlook on life that was not mainstream. He was cynical, he was rash and he was jarring, and for all those reasons, he was an acquired taste. His anti-American routines particularly did not bode well for his career; in an industry where shock is now the norm, Hicks was ahead of his time, but that was to prove little consolation.

Eventually, ousting himself from the cycle of rejection and abuse, Hicks winds up in New York where he gets himself clean and his magical touch returns. Though he never sacrifices his right to say and joke about whatever he wishes (and highlights from various gigs are used as proof of this), in doing so he pushes back against the mainstream tide that flirts with but never embraces him. Diagnosed with cancer in his early 30s, Hicks never receives the true acceptance of the American audience that he perhaps craved, but he died in the knowledge that he stuck to certain values that never let him compromise what he believed in to merely give audiences what they wanted to hear. Many would argue that, in itself, that is a very American value.

Harlock and Thomas' film joins the growing collection of posthumous albums and features that have attempted to reclaim Hicks' image, to wonderful effect. Whether it is guilt for ignoring him whilst alive, America has finally embraced the humour of a man whose only really fame was an ocean away in the United Kingdom. As only a proud American could care enough to write the jokes about the fatherland that Hicks managed, his emotional emigration to the British Isles is as tragic personally as it was a highlight professionally.

If the documentary has a flaw, it is that Hicks wasn't around to truly finish it. This is a half-finished documentary because it was a half-finished life.

Concluding Thought: As a resident of the UK, the portrayal of Hick's success in the British Isles being down to his anti-Americanism is somewhat simplistic. The UK has a wonderful tradition of supporting comedians regardless of background or content, purely because they make them laugh.

Justin Bieber: Never Say Never (2011)

How Biebermania might just be justified.

[8/10 · 15 March 2012]

It's easy to lose the real Justin Bieber within the Biebermania that has swept the world, turning most of the young star's concerts into ostensible national events, regardless of location. If a bit of traffic and squealing girls was all it was, most wouldn't mind too much, but Biebermania is not something that you can easily escape. Social media platforms, notably Twitter, have become circle jerks for Bieber fans to reassure themselves that they are still the majority, and therefore cool. In fact, the more one considers the whole phenomenon, the more one has to accept that it is not Bieber that drives or affects the hatred a great many have with him, rather it's the manner in which his fans show their affection.

Thankfully, for all concerned (except perhaps the real haters), Chu's film focuses on the source of Biebermania, not the effect. Beginning with the first YouTube videos of young Justin strumming his guitar to NeYo, we get the real Justin Bieber story, told by those who were there before love for Justin was determined by how loud they could squeal or how quickly they could get something to trend. His grandparents, who helped raise him, are wonderfully supportive and charmingly unaware of the impact of Bieber's brand. His mother, far younger and attractive than I certainly expected, is as proud as you would expect, and in a media landscape where mothers are often shown to expect so much of their offspring, it's comforting that she really does seem to have her son's interests at heart.

And finally, there's Bieber himself. Thrown into a world and a level of stardom that he surely can't have ever imagined, he doesn't appear yet to have let it sink in. Shown enjoying the company of old school friends and hawking outside a local theatre, Chu manages to establish enough of a link between the Bieber of YouTube anonymity and the Bieber of Madison Square Gardens to convince you that while the brand may grow and develop daily, Bieber himself has not changed. You can manufacture to a point, but can you teach the musical ability (Bieber plays a host of instruments), the charisma, the voice, the showmanship? Probably not.

There is something for everyone in this, it really is a marketer's dream. For the fans, the insight to Bieber, his entourage and his general being will have them buying DVDs. For those who aren't fans, this isn't just a marketing tool, it's an expose about teenage stardom, about the power of viral media and the value of hard work, regardless of age and experience. You might not necessarily be converted to his music, but you'll enjoy the musician (and a musician he is).

Concluding Thought: You can dislike the music, but it's hard to fault the work ethic, the charm and the determination to succeed.

Racing Dreams (2009)

How much is your kids' hobby worth?

[7/10 · 15 March 2012]

"Racing Dreams", Marshall Curry's first foray back into film post-Streetfight, channels Steve James' timeless "Hoop Dreams" in more than just name. Focusing the camera's attention on the soft underbelly of a sport that encapsulates the country's attention, Curry immerses himself in the lives of three stars of the World Karting Association, a known breeding ground for future NASCAR drivers. Editing over 500 hours of footage down into just 93 minutes, the Oscar-nominated director manages to weave a tale of adrenaline-fuelled competition and adolescent drama in equal measure.

The three racing protégés play more than their part. Josh Hobson, the 12-year old defending champion, is the competition's (and his own school's) pin-up boy. The consummate professional, he is shown studying up on drivers' autobiographies, analysing the victory speeches of NASCAR winners for tips on how to thank sponsors (the question of finance is a recurrent and difficult topic) and even driving the sale of raffle tickets at his own fund-raising golf day. Managing to race on weekends whilst preserving a 4.0 GPA, Hobson is the perfectionist who will stop at nothing to increase his chances of achieving his goal of becoming a professional driver.

Annabeth Barnes, 11 years old and the sole female in a competition (and sport) dominated by men, is competing not only with the prejudice of her compatriots, but also with the pressure of a racing family. A third-generation driver, her affable, middle-class parents both work hard to allow her to chase the family dream of becoming a professional driver, but she increasingly finds herself torn by the desire to remain a normal girl and not have to sacrifice time that could be spent with her friends.

Finally, Brandon Warren is the 13-year old competition's renegade. Disqualified for dangerous driving the previous year when set to win the championship, Warren has not had it easy in life. Son to a drug-taking mother and a father in and out of prison, he has been brought up by his stoic grandparents, who do all they can to keep him on the right path. Perhaps the most naturally talented driver on the circuit, Warren's career hopes are cruelled by his prickly image, sponsor's are unlikely to attach themselves to such a personality. Regretfully, this season therefore looms as his last.

Curry's film is edited superbly, with just enough racing knowledge to make the action sequences understandable and just enough off-track, personal drama to open up the drivers to their audience. That said, the film often feels disparate as we jump between the complications and uncertainty in the lives of Brandon and Annabeth, and the all-steam-ahead attitude of Hobson. For the first two, racing is competing with the other issues in their live, Brandon with a deadbeat dad and the prospect of a military career, Barnes with puberty and a disillusionment with constant racing. By contrast, for Hobson racing is his life, his parents may discuss money worries but his father is unyielding in his pledge to mortgage their life away to allow Joshua to chase his dream.

Perhaps it is a sign of a great documentary that it is sufficiently engaging to merit the critique that it deserved two, separate tellings, but that is nevertheless the conclusion drawn.

Concluding Thought: At $5,000 a race, this is one hobby my kids (when they arrive) won't be picking up.

Frontrunners (2008)

How student governance doesn't even interest our future governors

[5/10 · 26 February 2012]

Released on Election Eve in 2008, Caroline Suh's 'Frontrunners' capitalizes on our appetite for the vicissitudes, gaffes and drama of the electoral race. Set at Stuyvesant High School in New York, the United States' most prestigious public high school where over half the student population is Asian (note the unsurprising correlation), the film tracks the campaigns of the four tickets as they vie for the role of Senior President.

The parallels that can be drawn with national electoral races are quickly made apparent. Race is of vital importance - all the serious tickets are multi-ethnic - and it is clear that one candidate has chosen his running mate based on her Asian ethnicity alone. Friends and associates are drawn in to help with campaigning, each ticket adopting the classic high-school approach of harassing younger students with leaflets. The little matter of policies is ignored, very deliberately and quite fittingly by Suh, in favour of exposing what really matters to most voters, how the candidates come across in person. The old adage of 'would you have a beer with them?' has never been more apparent.

The candidates are drawn conveniently from a cross-section of school life anywhere. George is the Greek, chess-playing, socially awkward nerd, Mike is the suave, smart Junior Year President and Hannah is the athletic, cheer-leading, theatre club President. The final candidate, a basket-baller without the necessary school positions to fill out the lines on his running ticket, is sadly never considered (a cruel editing decision).

The difficulty however with Stuyvesant's election is that despite appearing to relate to your own school experience by drawing on similar characters, the nature of the school serves only to disassociate the viewer. How many of us went to schools where the budget for the Student Union exceeded $50,000? Or had live-televised debates for its student elections? Or even primaries for that matter? The real parallel, and one that certainly I can recall, is the apathy, an aspect of the election that Suh doesn't really engage with. If anything, the election, and the effect of it's results, is profoundly exaggerated. This is America's number one public high school, where you would expect the students to care about student politics, why is it therefore that the apathy is as high as at any mediocre high school? For all its faults though, Suh's film is an easy watch. As we are shown the candidates fighting for the endorsement of the student newspaper, using dirty tricks to expose competitors in the live debates and pressuring friends into voting for them, genuine drama is undoubtedly created. The candidates are engaging in their own ways and you will no doubt find your favourite and cheer them home. Just don't expect powerful insights into the nature of our more meaningful political races.

Concluding Thought: This is the best public high school in the United States, and only 600 of the 3200-strong student body bothered voting? Maybe apathy is the real story?

American Radical: The Trials of Norman Finkelstein (2009)

Why directors should take a stance on an issue?

[26 February 2012]

The son of Holocaust survivors and the talisman of those opposed to the policies of the state of Israel, Norman Finkelstein is a divisive figure, and both camps will probably get what they want out of this film.

To his supporters, who see in him the courage of a Jew willing to take a stand against the policies of the Israeli state, Finkelstein appears a dedicated and well-read scholar. His academic positions are not esteemed (and indeed, the more controversial his views, the faster his universities seem to want rid of him), but he can call on the likes of Noam Chomsky as supporters, the likes of Oxford University are willing to host his talks, his students adore him and his books continue to hit the top of best-seller lists.

To those suspicious of the origins of his views, the film illuminates his mother's pacifism and liberalism in the wake of surviving the Holocaust as formative on Finkelstein's worldview, whilst his opposition to the Lebanese War and time spent living in the West Bank with the Palestinians act as the catalyst to spending a lifetime exposing the 'crimes' of the Israeli state.

The problem with Finkelstein, and the reason why many see in him nothing but a 'self-hating Jew', is the manner in which he picks his fights. There are many scholars at respected institutions who are critical of Israeli policy, particularly in Europe, but they aren't releasing books called 'The Holocaust Industry' and taking their book tours to Lebanon, or publicly accusing the Harvard professor Alan Dershowtiz of fraud and plagiarism. Even Chomsky, who has never had an issue taking contrarian positions, appears to take issue with the figures Finkelstein decides to focus his efforts on.

There is surely room in the debate for a Jew who is willing to take on the Israeli state, even for one who is admittedly pro-Palestinian; in 'Budrus' we have seen the potential of Jewish citizens to shift perspectives on both sides of the wall. Yet there are surely better ways for Finkelstein to direct his energies than through arguments and acts that only exacerbate antagonisms in the region and act as diversions to the actual debate, which must be undertaken civilly.

Concluding Thought: Find it really difficult to pass judgement on Finkelstein without having personally read his books and weighed the arguments against the likes of Dershowitz'. As such, I found this enlightening, but ultimately restricted in scope.

Helvetica (2007)

How the Swiss obsession with neutrality goes well beyond the battlefield

[6/10 · 26 February 2012]

The year 2007 marked the 50th anniversary of the Helvetica typeface. To most people, this little nugget of information (#fact if you will) means very little. Begin to show them however just how ubiquitous and ever-present Helvetica is in their everyday lives and you'll have their interest. Hustwit certainly got mine very early on.

From street signs to Nike advertising campaigns, from littering notices to shop billboards, Helvetica is omnipresent. We must see thousands of words and phrases a day that use the Helvetica typeface, yet far from wonder why the typeface is always identical, we don't even recognise they are in fact the same typeface. Hustwit's 'Helvetica' delves into this gap, one that didn't exist for the viewer before the film started, but quickly engages our curiosity: why is it used so uniformly? why does it look so...clear? what does that say about us? where did it come from? who creates this stuff? It is a courageous director who opens that can of worms, but Hustwit takes to it with relish.

Taking us back to Switzerland in the 1950s, the field of typography is laid out in full by a panoply of talking heads ranging from modern-day typographers, to graphic designers, to mere (and I use that reluctantly) artists. Perhaps fittingly, the issue of Helvetica's omnipresence remains the centre of attention for all those interviewed, how can they explain away the veritable phenomenon it has become? The range of responses elicited conveys a certain chasm in the field, the 'neutrality' that arises as the font's attraction is as much a joy and example of sheer artistry to one artist as it is depressing and mere bourgeois subterfuge to the next. The discussions of the aesthetic of the font, and of others' (failed) attempts to move beyond it, do risk at times moving beyond the film's appeal to the layman, but are forgiven for the passion they betray of the filmmaker and his subjects.

As a font, Helvetica is more than simply an inspiration for the corporations that depend on its neutrality and aesthetic to promote their goods. It is an instrument that both lures figures into the design industry for want of its use and pushes those opposed to its capitalist connotations into usurping its ideals and creating their own fonts.

Thus far, few have been successful and Helvetica reigns supreme on the street; have we reached the 'end of history' for typography? Helvetica may be its perfect form.

Concluding Thought: Nothing to do with typography, but who knew 'Helvetia' in Latin was Switzerland? (#fact)

30 for 30: The Two Escobars (2010) Season 1, Episode 16

How the mix of drugs and sport could be explained with mentos and diet coke

[8/10 · 26 February 2012]

The early-90s in Colombian football was the era of 'narco-soccer'. As drug barons sought to exploit their power and grip on parliament and society, they turned to football to launder their profits. Stadium attendances and the transfers of big-name players could easily be doctored to legitimise and legalise drug revenues; as such, it soon became the only game in town. The leader of the Medellin cartel, Pablo Escobar, was the biggest fish in a sizable pond, and his financial backing of his local side would ultimately lead them to the highest honour on the continent, victory in the Copa Liberatores. The young, fresh-faced defender in Escobar's team that night was Andres Escobar.

The Zimbalists' film, initially created as part of ESPN's (wonderful) 30 for 30 documentary series, does not seek to pontificate on the ethics of the drug barons, or whether the effect they had on Colombian football was ultimately positive or not. The investment of Escobar, not just in the city's football teams but also in the construction of new pitches in the slums, garnered him much popularity; similarly, the ability of the clubs to keep its star players unquestionably had a large part to play in the country's improved international form. Despite this, the intimidation and terror that emerged between cartels and their respective teams was not tenable, and the government was forced to act to bring the charade to a stop. Colombia's cities, with the rule of law held together by the hierarchy of the cartels, dissolved into anarchy. Yet, just as the cartels held out against the authorities, so too did the effect of their investment into football have lingering effects.

In the final game of qualification before the 1994 World Cup, the much-heralded Colombian football team travelled to Buenos Aires to play the Goliath of Argentina. Jeered as they entered the country for being mere play-toys of Colombia's drug barons (who the government was struggling to catch and prosecute), the team would thrash the home side 5-0 and receive a standing ovation from the capacity Argentine crowd. Marking the successful culmination of a qualifying campaign that had seen the side box well above its weight, the Colombian side captained by the reserved Andres Escobar was the only saving grace in a collapsing state. The nation would look to Escobar's team to prove, at the World Cup, that they could rise above the internal divisions wrought by the war on the drugs.

What happens thereafter marks the piercing of the bubble of optimism in Colombia that hoped the nation's football team could weather the storm of violence and instability that was vitiating the South American state. That the President chose to use the country's footballers to re-invigorate Colombia's battered image whilst at the same time targeting the likes of Escobar, who were responsible for their success, is the ultimate irony. You can't have it both ways. The country was so encapsulated by their football team's success that they failed to recognise its origins in the very men they considered so detrimental to law and order.

In as much, the retreat of Colombian football into the regional also-ran (it has never since made a World Cup) was the price that had to be paid for the re-assertion of the power and rule of legitimate authority. It might not excite the fans who wept at the funeral of Pablo Escobar, but it is the lesser of two evils.

We Were Here (I) (2011)

'How to find meaning while battling an illness that confounds it'

[7/10 · 21 February 2012]

The AIDS Epidemic first reached San Francisco and its vibrant gay community in the late 1970s. A mystery to doctors, both in form and how it was being transmitted, the disease that would come to be termed the 'gay plague' spread rapidly. By the start of the 1980s, men were rapidly presenting with symptoms of both Kaposi's sarcoma and pneumocystis pneumonia. With treatments having little effect, nothing could be done but to help them die.

Weissman and Weber's 'We Were Here' is not an exploration of the impact of the AIDS epidemic per se, but of a chapter in American social history. Do not expect any reflection on the ongoing African epidemic for example, the focus is the effect on individuals and the community in San Francisco that went beyond that simply of illness and death. How does one retain moral strength when friends and loved ones are dying of an illness that is not only untreatable, but for a long time, simply unknown? In as much, the directors should be commended for finding a cast of people both so involved in the crisis, yet affected in such different ways by the devastation wrought. The inclusion of a lesbian nurse who worked in the city's first specific-AIDS ward and later helped organize a number of clinical trials is a notable touch given the hostility between the gay and lesbian communities at the time. The manner in which the epidemic brought the two communities together, with lesbians holding blood banks to exploit their immunity, is one of the film's most tender and poignant moments.

Ultimately, what all the voices share are lives so deeply intertwined with the period that it is impossible not to get emotional listening to their recounting. Given the added context of the isolation and ostracision of the gay community during the period, one's admiration for the strength and perseverance shown by the men and women (one of whom is indeed HIV-positive) cannot be overstated.

Do not fear a kitsch, overly-sentimental eulogy to those who died. 'We Were Here' is as much about life-affirmation as it is death. The many who died would be proud to see how their loved ones have managed to move on and enjoy fulfilling lives, without ever forgetting them.

Concluding Thought: How to even begin to comprehend life as a homosexual in San Francisco at the time? The interviewees do their best to describe it, but I think even they know there are limits to what they can put across in words.

Burma VJ: Reporting from a Closed Country (2008)

'How wanton violence can be blunted by democratic desire'

[7/10 · 21 February 2012]

Its 1988 in Burma. Students are leading a series of vociferous protests against the military junta. Years of economic mismanagement have been compounded by the sudden cancelling of some of the nation's currency notes - savings held in cash are instantly wiped out. The shooting of an engineering student in March leads only to louder and larger protests; a young woman by the name of Aung San Suu Kyi becomes the face of the democracy movement. Then, on September 18, the Army steps in - over 3,000 are killed or disappeared in one afternoon.

Fast forward to 2007, and Joshua, the underground reporter and narrator of Ostergaard's 'Burma VJ' is getting deja vu. Economically on its knees, with high unemployment, rising inflation and subsidies being cut, and politically running out of options, the Burmese people are suffering. As one of a number of journalists working illegally for the Democratic Voice of Burma (DVB), a television and radio network-in-exile (based in Norway), Joshua risks his freedom and life to document conditions inside the country under the despotic rule of the junta. Once smuggled out of the country, images and videos are edited and streamed back into Burma via radio networks, or passed onto international news networks to raise awareness.

In late 2007, Joshua and his DVB colleagues noticed a shift in popular opinion. The fears of a recurrence of 1988 were subsiding, a combination of the natural amnesia of time and the desperation of quotidian life. Small, isolated protests were occurring. They were quickly broken up by the junta's 'thugs' but not before being captured by the diligent DVB reporters. Then, and most famously, the monks took to the streets; occupying a precious place in Burmese and Buddhist society, monks are not to be harmed and therefore presented a literal human shield for the thousands of Burmese citizens who took to the streets to protest alongside them.

The bloody conclusion to the uprising thereafter is well-known, as is the infamous execution-like shooting of the Japanese journalist Kenji Nagai. What Ostergaard adds to the saga however is to point out the courage of those behind the footage (it was a DVB reporter that captured the Nagai shooting for example, from a nearby building), who risk their lives so that the bravery of those protesting is not lost with the first firing of the army's guns. The 2007 uprising, however brutally put down, was a defeat for the junta due almost entirely to the reporting of DVB reporters, like Joshua, who put themselves in positions similar to Nagai in order to document the democratic desire of their people.

Concluding Thought: Hard to know who to admire more, the monks willing to die for the sake of their people, or the reporters willing to die to document it.

Hot Coffee (2011)

How Karl Rove will at least haunt future generations as well...

[7/10 · 12 February 2012]

How does big business turn a multi-million dollar pay-out into a substantial coup for industry and a devastating blow for the civil justice system? Quite easily, according to Susan Saladoff's 'Hot Coffee'.

On February 27, 1992, Stella Liebeck, a healthy, active 72 year-old woman spilled a cup of boiling hot McDonald's coffee on her inner thigh. Suing McDonald's for damages, she was awarded $160,000 in medical damages and $2.7 million dollars in punitive damages by a jury; a trial judge would later reduce the award, and the two parties settled confidentially. In the meantime Liebeck and her cause were being pilloried by the nation's media - how, they said, could a company be liable for the mishandling error of a patron?

Big business latched onto this wave of public opinion to condemn, in a widespread and well- financed media campaign, the rising tide of so-called 'frivolous lawsuits' eating away at the profits of all businesses. 'Tort reform' became the new catch-cry of this push - 'tort' meaning a 'harm' essentially - as industry used its leverage to encourage politicians, judges and the public alike to get behind new regulation that would make pay-outs like the one to Stella Liebeck a mere memory.

The problem with this lies between the lines of the Liebeck case. Court photos detailing the extent of Liebeck's injuries - which required two separate skin grafts and over $100,000 worth of medical costs - are horrifying, as are the revelations that McDonald's had received over 700 unanswered complaints about the potential for injury with their standardized coffee temperature. That the jury came down so vehemently on the side of the plaintiff, and the corporation lowered their temperature standard in the wake of the case demonstrates not that this was not the 'frivolous' lawsuit painted in the media, but an appropriate and necessary use of the civil justice system.

Not content to rest on this relative bombshell - I for one was embarrassed at my lack of knowledge of the Liebeck case - Saladoff charts how the case was used to systematically introduce US-wide 'tort reform', in the manner of both 'caps on damages' and 'mandatory arbitration' clauses in contract. These 'reforms' ensure that big business is protected from not merely the very few con artists seeking to extort them out of money (of which Liebeck is not one), but also the majority of whom have a reasonable and justified case to put forward to a civil court.

The tragedy is this whole sage is not that Liebeck received such a pay-out, but that with these new misnomers of 'reforms', the likes of Liebeck are no longer sufficiently protected from the rich and powerful. Accountability is gradually being eroded, with the tacit consent of the people no less.

Concluding Thought: How have I gone this long without knowing the context of the McDonald's case? Should I have been more diligent and found out myself, or can I blame the media?

Being Elmo: A Puppeteer's Journey (2011)

How to shatter a glass ceiling but tiptoe around the fact it ever happened...

[8/10 · 12 February 2012]

In 1985, seasoned puppeteer Richard Hunt was growing exasperated with his attempts to find a voice and personality for a mediocre, bit-part furry red muppet. Believing it to be futile, he threw the role to Kevin Clash, a young, talented puppeteer who had only recently joined the Sesame Street crew. Adopting a falsetto tone and a desire for a muppet to represent 'love and kindness', Elmo was born.

Marks' story is ostensibly that of Kevin Clash, but we soon learn that the puppeteer and his puppet are essentially one and the same. Growing in a large, working-class family in Baltimore, puppetry was always Clash's calling. Ignoring the social embarrassment of the hobby, the artform's future star would perform impromptu shows for local kids in his garden, build new muppets out of his parents' clothes and eventually garner his first local TV role before he finished high school. Those same kids who teased him would now vote him most likely to be a millionaire. They weren't wrong.

Whoopi Goldberg is the somewhat questionable narrator of the rest of Clash's journey to stardom. With a lot of hard work and the odd phone call from his mother on his behalf, Kevin is soon rubbing shoulders with the likes of Frank Oz (of Miss Piggy and Grover fame), muppet designer Kermet Love, and eventually the father of the artform, Jim Henson himself. The grandfather-grandson relationship with Love is the film's high point; inviting the young puppeteer into his workshop, Henson's chief designer unlocks the magical world that Clash has longed to immerse himself in. Thereafter, it appears only a question of how hard Clash is willing to work until he gets his big break with Elmo.

There is a whole other documentary in the character of Elmo himself (and I'm sure they exist), but to see the giant Clash operate the lovable monster as he meets Make-A-Wish children and their families is as heart-warming as their situation is heart-breaking. To be responsible for and continue to operate a character that means so much to so many is a wonderful testament to the character of Clash himself. Given a world dominated by the gritty and complex, Elmo's simple message of love and care is a much-needed comfort - for all ages and sizes.

There are admittedly parts of the puppeteer's story that Marks chooses not to explore; the black Clash is implored to use his race as a card to get himself onto a Jim Henson project, yet the question of race is not mentioned thereafter (despite the obvious lack of black puppeteers in most of the footage shown). Similarly, his relationship with his ex-wife is skimmed over despite allusions to problems associated with treating their new-born daughter as just another puppet. If the intention was to keep a story about Elmo fairly up- beat and happy, fair enough, but there's not much of a moral message in simply ignoring the lulls of life.

Having not grown up exposed to the Sesame Street phenomenon or the wider cinematic world of Jim Henson's band of muppets (Muppets: A Christmas Carol still confuses me to this day), I was concerned I would miss something with Marks' 'Being Elmo'. I need not have worried. While Mark's film is not the in-depth look at the artform of puppetry that many may have hoped, it is nevertheless a charming biopic about Clash and the rewards of hard work and persistence in chasing one's dream. And ultimately, it is rather comforting to know that the love and care personified by Elmo is in no way artificial - if Clash wasn't the gregarious, warm character we see, would we think differently of the muppet on his arm?

Concluding Thought: If Elmo is a quintessentially Kevin Clash creation, when the puppeteer retires, does the puppet go with him?

Resurrect Dead: The Mystery of the Toynbee Tiles (2011)

How to build to a climax that never comes...and not leave your audience wanting more

[6/10 · 12 February 2012]

The "Toynbee Tiles" are a series of 130 known plaques, predominantly found in North American cities and first sighted in the early 1980s, that propagate the following message (see picture attached):

TOYNBEE IDEA IN MOVIE 2001 RESURRECT DEAD ON PLANET JUPITER

The ambiguity of the message and the absence of ownership has long-fuelled an active online community contributing sightings and information that they hope one day will lead to enlightenment. Justin Duerr, the protagonist of Foy's film, is one such fan. First discovering a Toynbee Tile on his mail route, he has spent much of his adult life documenting new sightings and following leads to unravel the mystery.

The online consensus, revealed and substantiated by Duerr, is that the message refers to a society named the 'Minority Association', operating in the early 80s, who advocated historian Arnold Toynbee's belief that 'dead molecules' could be rearranged to bring the dead back to life. Kubrick's '2001: A Space Odyssey' is referenced in part due to the use of this mechanism to bring its astronauts back to consciousness in space. The content of the actual message is soon shown however to pale in significance to the intrigue surrounding its creator. Added text found around certain individual tiles points to a troubled, paranoid mind, obsessed with conspiracies (the USSR, NBC, the Mafia to name but three) and fearful for his own life.

Duerr's background is almost as intriguing as that of the artist he is attempting to track down. Growing up in a converted barn, he had two passions; art and pigeons. His art teacher at school, who doted over his every stroke but wished for him to conform, served only to push him to drop out aged 16. Finding himself squatting in the city, Justin needed an occupation; a job as a courier was merely a means to an end, the pursuit of the Toynbee Tiles mystery quickly becomes his real life's work.

With the help of the artist's own archival footage and Foy's cartoon recreations, Duerr traces the arc of his prior investigation to establish what is known about the person responsible for the cryptic tiles. Enlisting the support of two other Toynbee Tile aficionados, long-haired, forum moderator Colin Smith and photographer Steve Weinik, their research narrows the field of 'suspects' down until they are left with just one - the introverted, paranoid owner of a boarded-up home in suburban Philadelphia - nicknamed 'the Birdman' by local kids for his menagerie - and known only to leave in the early hours. With the architect of this decade- long mystery unwilling to come to the door, Foy and Duerr are clearly left with a difficult decision; do they harass the man and hope for a confession, or grant him his wish and leave him alone - with the mystery half-solved but lacking crucial confirmation?

As it happens, much of the film's criticism (it rates only 60-odd percent on RT) is found in the supposed-inconclusiveness of Foy's chosen ending. However, I think it would be a mistake to view the pursuit of the Toynbee Tile creator as for the purpose and resolution of the audience's intrigue; it is much more personal to Duerr. If the man who has spent over a decade unravelling the mystery is content that he has his answer and ready to move on, who are we to demand he digs further?

Perhaps some mysteries are best left as just that?

Budrus (2009)

How to cry over spilled milk...and honey and olives.

[8/10 · 12 February 2012]

Ever wondered if non-violent resistance is futile?

Ever questioned whether the very protesters who vow never to take up arms are dooming themselves to insignificance and the demise of their cause, however noble?

For all its history and morality, is non-violent protest going out of fashion? Why, one could reasonably ask, organize million-strong marches when you could take a few hundred, cause a bit of trouble and be assured of instantaneous, blanket, worldwide media coverage and a week's worth of column inches?

Before you lose any hope, consider the case put forward by Julia Bacha's Budrus. Threatened by the prospect of Israeli's 'Security Wall' cutting it off from a large portion of its arable land, the town organizes a series of protests designed to prevent the progress of the contractor bulldozers. Avowedly non-violent (indeed, they are almost mini-festivals with their chanting, smiles and gentle ribbing of soldiers), the protests develop from small, local, all-male affairs to regional, unisex events to being the centre of an evocative international saga.

The star of the resistance movement is the town's understated 'community organizer' (can't write that without thinking Obama), Ayed Morrar, who succeeds in uniting Fatah and Hamas factions, both within his town and externally, behind the non-violent movement of his town. This is no mean feat in a nation once united, but now increasingly divided itself. Budrus could easily have become another platform for a Palestinian spat but thanks in part to Morrar's mediation, and (one feels) the presence of the international media, internecine rivalries are put to one side for the sake of the town and its efforts.

"It takes a village to unite the most divided people on earth"

Like most statements about this particular region, there is much to be disputed about the film's byline. The Budrus movement is a great advert for many things - but I'm not sure Middle Eastern unity is one of them. The fact is that the wall is still being built, and will soon act as a permanent reminder of the absence of unity in the region. What do we make of the tens of Israelis willing to go into Palestine and protest on behalf of the Budrus villagers? It is encouraging, granted, but ultimately relatively meaningless until the Israeli left-wing is sufficiently strong enough to influence Israeli politics. It is propitious that so many are young, for it might connote a generational change, but then again, they are no younger than the Israeli soldiers against whom they direct their protests.

Nevertheless, in the meantime 'Budrus' offers hope to villages in Palestine and beyond who suffer under the repression of foreign states and bodies. Non-violent protest can and does work, and is just as courageous and brave as any armed struggle.

If a Tree Falls: A Story of the Earth Liberation Front (2011)

How the solution to environmental degradation lies in lighting large fires nearby...

[8/10 · 12 February 2012]

In 2005, former Earth Liberation Front (ELF) member Daniel McGowan is arrested, along with a dozen others, in a co-ordinated operation to bring to justice those responsible for a series of arson attacks over the previous decade. McGowan is implicated for his role in a number of these attacks, and faces a double life sentence if he continues to refuse to take a plea (and, in doing so, turn on his former comrades). Under house arrest in his sister's New York apartment, McGowan invites Marshall Curry in to document the period up to his imprisonment.

The ELF are not an easy organization to categorize; formed seemingly out of the believed futility of peaceful and non-violent demonstration to protect the 'raping' of the environment, they use economic warfare (in the form of property destruction) to make their points instead. McGowan, a late-comer to the organization but one who quickly uses his charm and passion for the cause to rise through the ranks, does not deny any of the charges laid before him. Rather, Curry is granted insider accounts from not merely the arrestee but also a number of his co-conspirators (even, most notably, the snitch who gave McGowan and his accomplices up in the years after the arson attacks).

Curry's film is not a propaganda film for McGowan, or even the ELF; it doesn't throw statistics at you regarding the extent of logging or the dangers of genetically-modified food (two of the organization's targets for attacks). Rather, it serves to establish a landscape more complex than the simplistic 'eco-terrorist' slur used to describe McGowan et al, without necessarily demanding sympathy for their bleak position and future.

The ELF's case is nevertheless made strongly: in all the EDF's actions - and they number over 1200 incidents - not a single human casualty results, and the targets are invariably large organizations and corporations. The eco-warrior McGowan is at pains to stress their actions as mere 'property destruction', and it is hard to argue otherwise - particularly with the poignant NY backdrop - yet Curry is even-handed enough to also interview the workers and families of those whose workplaces have been destroyed. To them, the destruction of property is not a means to an end (however noble), but a misunderstanding of what it is they do. An Oregonian logging executive, whose offices were targeted by the ELF in 2001, is therefore equally convincing in arguing that by definition, he is also an 'environmentalist' - for every tree his business cuts down, six have to be planted, and further, if there were no trees left, there would be no logging business either.

The points raised on both sides are relevant and thought-provoking; it is patently clear no- one is out to do serious harm, either to the environment or to the workers, yet both sides remain at loggerheads over whose supposed 'crime' is worse. And while the battle goes on, everyone continues to suffer. There is clearly a middle-way between the tree-hugging environmentalism of the ELF and the business-savvy but ecologically-dependent corporations and businesses they target, but why hasn't it been found?

Concluding Thought: MacGowan may well not be a 'terrorist' in the sense of a suicide bomber seeking maximum casualties, but the arson attacks are undoubtedly intended to instill a degree of fear to encourage desired political action. That is still terrorism.

Sound and Fury (2000)

How scientific progress might not always be progressive...

[7/10 · 12 February 2012]

If you had a deaf child, but treatment existed to return their hearing, would you go ahead with the surgery?

Seems simple, right. Not.

Long Island, circa 2000.

Peter Artinian and his wife Nita are deaf, as are their three children. Proud members of a wider deaf community, the couple view the deficiency as a blessing - one they are happy to share with their offspring. However, when their five-year old daughter Heather - a clearly bright young girl - relates her desire to have a cochlear implant, they are forced to reluctantly investigate the then-revolutionary treatment.

Chris Artinian, Peter's brother, is not deaf, nor is his wife. However with deafness in both their families, it comes as only a minor shock when one of their new-born twins is diagnosed as deaf. Four years younger than cousin Heather, cochlear surgery for the baby would be slightly safer and offer a greater prospect of success (defined as keeping up academically with mainstream 'hearers').

The heart and beauty of 'Sound and Fury' is the apparent simplicity of the initial dilemma, and the manner in which it is slowly and systematically undermined by Aronson. We are taken inside a proud, but insular, deaf community that has largely usurped the difficulties we may wantonly have considered insurmountable; a memorable exchange at a deaf school barbecue ends with Artinian family friends describing their own professions and responsibilities, all achieved with their supposed 'disability' (not 'despite' it).

Peter Artinian is the real bulldog to this end however. With his heart worn passionately on his sleeve, the translation of his sign language is almost unnecessary - we know how much he cares for his daughter; we get how concerned he is that the surgery may prove unsuccessful and leave Heather stranded between communities; we understand how much he wants his family to not see their deafness as a disability. Yet the nagging suspicion that he would be denying her certain opportunities persists.

For Chris and his wife Mari, as a family of hearers, the decision appears simpler - despite the opposition of his brother and his wife's deaf parents. Supported by his own parents, their journey is less whether they desire the implant than whether the surgery is worth the risk - does it offer everything they have been told?

The results are never clear; as one might naturally expect, Chris and Mari focus on those who have been successes, Peter manages to find those who have struggled. Ironically, as each brother affirms his decision, we only grow more conflicted.

Heart-wrenching.

Concluding Thought: I hope sign language never dies out. It is so very raw and human.

An African Election (2011)

How democracy can, and is, being imposed from the bottom-up

[9/10 · 12 February 2012]

In 2008, Ghana returns to the polls under the weight of great national and international expectation. Military coups and suspect elections on the continent becoming commonplace, Ghana was to be the beacon of democracy that the region and its pro-democracy activists could look to. Two-term incumbent, John Kuffour, is stepping aside and his place is to be taken by either the Conserative NPP's Nana Akufo-Addo or the Liberal NDC's Professor John Atta Mills. Both politicians outline their hopes for a fair and peaceful election.

Formerly the 'Gold Coast' under British colonial rule, Ghana had been the first West African country to claim independence, in 1957. Since then, it has suffered through a series of tumultuous political periods, numbering three military coups and four republics; however, from 1992 it has slowly but surely developed a cohesive political system and consistent, if not extraordinary, national growth. Nevertheless, it's people are not content. Channelling the modern complaint used by citizens of democracy the world over, the Ghanaians remain suspicious of the political pandering of their representatives, promising a great deal but always failing to act once elected.

Ghanaian: 'None of the parties are offering a paradigm shift. All parties offering to do the same thing, but some offer to do it better than others'.

It is the universality of the issues and complaints found in this documentary that offers hope, not just to Ghana, but to the continent as a whole. The two main parties in Ghana, the NDC and the NPP, are far from polarized - at one point we cut back and forth between party rallies to see both candidates making almost identical pledges relating to security and food production - and this is mirrored in the issues that continually crop up in interviews with ordinary Ghanaians, regardless of their political affiliations. Top of this list is a desire for peaceful elections; when the ballet boxes are counted, the locals insist on surrounding officials and count the ballets out loud. It is raw democracy, and it's very powerful.

Former President Jerry Rawlings: 'I know what a pack of thieves the NPP are. You need to protect the sanctity of the ballot box as you would protect your mother, your wife, your children'.

Nevertheless, Ghana does not operate as a bubble; this is still Africa. Fears of fraudulent activity and party intimidation are ever-present; a delay in the announcement of results after the first round of voting leads to both parties bringing their supporters out onto the street, provoking the army to intervene and clashes to erupt. It takes a calm and composed response from the Ghanaian Electoral Commission to re-assert the rule of law and ensure a transfer of power is eventually accomplished without major incident.

Such kinks in the process grant Ghana's election a real authenticity. As an example to its neighbours on the continent, its imperfection should be a inspiration - democracy is built over a period of time, not erected out of a box. The US have shown that however strong your democratic institutions may be (and that is perhaps the only thing both parties there do agree on), elections are still complex and emotive events to manage. Yet, Ghana and its Electoral Commission know that with each successive attempt, both they and the public at large will develop a confidence and trust in the processes put in place.

NDC Spokeswoman: 'I want my children not to be ashamed of being African, because Africa is always looked at as a basket case'.

'An African Election' is a TBC; in a way, it will never be completed. Yet, with each subsequent free and fair election, with each runner-up or incumbent who accepts with grace the will of his people, Africa will go closer to becoming the peaceful and prosperous region it deserves to be.

Concluding Thought: Former President Jerry Rawlings is one serious orator.