Showing posts with label Documentary. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Documentary. Show all posts

Monday, September 8, 2008

Salata Baladi- Nadia Kamel's journey to the heart of strife

When her young nephew hears a sermon in Cairo encouraging religious war, filmmaker Nadia Kamel takes it upon herself to acquaint him with the life of his maternal grandmother Maria and the family's hundred-year history of mixed marriages. Her effort takes the shape of a film called Salata Baladi or House Salad.
In her stories Maria reveals bits of her identity as a part Jewish, part Christian, part Muslim, Italian and Arab woman who has been an ardent communist and feminist. But much as Nadia loves these stories, their self-indulgence begins to irk her and she decides to encourage her family to travel across borders with her mother to discover, acknowledge and consolidate who they are with who they have been living as. The footage from their subsequent travels to Italy, Palestine and Israel, interspersed with their conversations and daily routine at home in Egypt is captured spontaneously and has a ‘live news feed’ feel to it. But where it can, the film makes space for the characters to make intimate acquaintance with the audience with the help of lingering images that capture them at crucial personal moments. Through the journey confusion clouds over Maria’s introspection and a volley of questions surface. Why did the World War force them to convert to Christianity? Can she reveal to her family in Egypt that she has relatives in Israel and expect them to understand her need to disregard the boycott and travel to the country? Is it right for her to? Can her half-Palestinian grandson who has no nationality get an Italian citizenship? Should he? Are the personal decisions she is about to make going to threaten her political stands? To reclaim one identity must she mar another?
The beauty of the film lies in its refraining from over-emphasizing dilemmas as it does in its courage to look for honest answers irrespective of the probability of disappointment.
Even as one watched the film, news streamed in of a massive political rally in the city with an agenda to celebrate the identity of a linguistic group. The assertion sadly was at the cost of running down other identities. A section of ‘migrants’ were thrashed and told that there is no room for them in this state if they continue to behave as ‘outsiders’. Masses of people forced to constantly realign their identities on lines of religion, caste and language at the behest of politicians spurred by vote-banks, must indeed wonder if the pre-independence dream of one nation made any sense. Their fate bears resonance in the stories of migrations told in this film that reveal identities mutilated by political discords.
Fortunately the truth about our civilization lies neither in political rhetoric nor historical texts. It nestles safely within homes where identities have merged to form families. We have only to take a long hard and true look at ourselves to disband the notions of ‘separatism’ as propagated by the politics of power.
(The article originally appeared in Mumbai Mirror)


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Grass- Ron Mann's Lost Leaf

Ron Mann has tried grass. He is also a much toasted documentary filmmaker in the festival and critical circles around the globe. Grass, the definitive movie on the history of marijuana laws in the USA is his baby. But there is more to this than fits in easily.
This compilation documentary pieced together from over 400 hours of footage on the most controversial drug of the 20th century is a stunning effort in historical archiving. From outtakes, campaigns and press meets of the likes of Aslinger, Carter, Nixon, La Guardia, Reagan and other powers that shaped the policies of the world’s most powerful democracy, to clips from anti-marijuana propaganda films and ‘public service’ messages that planted a taboo that cannot be weeded out, Mann has procured it all.
Breaking away from the ‘news’ format documentaries, Mann uses hardly any interviews, editing his material to precision with cheeky graphic art by former underground comic artist Paul Mavrides and a killer selection of songs on pot that propel the narrative.
In an earlier interview where Mann admitted to smoking the weed himself, he added he hardly knows anyone who doesn’t, quickly qualifying that with a joke about ‘”the kind of people he hangs out with’”. This defines his approach to the film. It is backed by some rock solid research that makes a stern case for ‘the issue’, but isn’t propagandist in a Micheal Moore sort of way. Its bias is revealed in a couple of hilarious blooper pot shots at the authorities, but for that it does not scream its decriminalization stand in your ears. It is friendly, unobtrusive and happy, quite like a pot smoker itself. The voice of the film, popularly known as Mr. Hemp for his years of activism on the subject, Woody Harrelson contributes by making sure sarcasm doesn’t bubble over his laid back know-it-all narrative.
There is as much design as philosophy in this approach though. Mann clearly wanted to make a film that gets seen and not just talked about and for that he had to make sure it does not come across positively as pro-pot and risk censorship (it is another matter that for all his precautions, people still found objectionable clips to clamp it down in a couple of places).
His wisdom is appreciated because this film is not just for dope lovers. Mann traces the history of the war against marijuana to the institutionalized racism against Mexicans who first brought in the weed. Gradually it went on to become an excuse to round up anyone who dared to think differently, from hippies to communists. It is really about unsubstantiated propaganda against the voice of reason and civil liberties that is used for political and personal gains thereby creating prejudices that destroy precious lives. Prejudices right up to the ‘war on terror’ called on grounds as dubious and familiar as the ‘war on marijuana, just as expensive and just as much more harmful than the malady it hopes to cure.
The film is naturally as valid in our country except that it would be impossible to make it here. We hardly have any public debate on the topic that could be archived. As one writes, the authorities in Mumbai have taken it upon themselves to decide what we should not be watching and banned cheerleading for cricket. It might be a while before we can protest against debatable moral and cultural policing. Until then, it will suffice to consider that history is in the outtakes; the rest of it is a bedtime story.
(The article originally appeared in Mumbai Mirror)