Documentary Manifesto

A documentary is any piece of creative nonfiction filmmaking created with a primary directive, which could include, but is not limited to, any combination of exposition, education, revelation, investigation, confession, indictment, persuasion, propaganda, entertainment, and, of course, documentation. The documentary must achieve (or attempt to achieve) some level of truth-claim, with a direct connection to the ‘real,’ (Renov, 2004), which is structured with some degree of formal treatment and tone.

1. Documentary is no excuse for low production values:

Since the Zapruder footage of JFK’s assassination inadvertently established a low -grade aesthetic code for actuality footage—that is, overly shaky, out-of-focus, handheld camerawork or captured action without inciting incident or resolution—some of its defining characteristics seem to have blended into certain forms of documentary production (particularly direct cinema and cinema verite) itself (Bruzzi, 2006). While gritty aesthetics can heighten the truth-claim, and the implied connection to the ‘real’ unadulterated actuality footage tends to have, shoddy overall production values simply reveal the documentarian as an untrained amateur, whose perspective on said actuality is easily dismissed. The Zapruder aesthetic, however, can be powerfully manipulated when juxtaposed in a greater context – as archive material in a complex documentary, for example – or as a technique used in Hollywood fiction (violent scenes shot on ‘cell phones,’ home-video footage, etc.) to heighten the degree of verisimilitude.

2. If your documentary bores the average viewer, it has failed.

Viewability has been a common concern of documentary practice through its history. How does one create an illuminating, intelligent inquiry without alienating the majority of audiences accustomed to film as diversion? In the process of selecting knowledgeable experts for the conduction of insightful interviews, notions of audience entertainment in favour of enlightenment can oftentimes be ignored, but do not need to be. If complex high-fidelity exposition is required for non-expert viewers to understand the topic or issue driving the documentary’s story, many viewers could lose focus and choose their entertainment elsewhere. Documentary does not need to uphold the ideals of entertainment over the primary directive, but entertainment should always be a consideration, for filmmakers seeking wide audiences, particularly if the primary directive involves educating, persuading or exposing important truths. This situation is particularly important in the selection of subjects and interviewees, where documentary should adhere to the standards of fiction casting. In the grand scheme of the documentary as a whole, knowledge on a subject matter is no more important than camera presence and charisma. If a given expert lacks presence, he/she should be recast. If a key interview drags and can’t be cut or re-shot, it should be enhanced with a score that bolsters the intended emotional response. It should also be noted that actuality (sound-up) footage is, in general, both more engaging and more convincing than explanatory interview. Critics have not been bemoaning talking-heads for reasons of unfair bias.

3. Freely twist, exaggerate and manipulate the truth (but don’t get caught doing it).

If one must lie to preserve the film’s primary directive (a common facet in persuasive propaganda), it is obviously imperative that the intended audience does not know this fact. While fiction films hope to immerse audiences by engaging a willing suspension of disbelief, documentary films today hope to accomplish their primary directive by engaging a willing suspension of skepticism. Contemporary documentary audiences know that films are created with some degree of subjective molding, in the selective choosing of “topics, people, vistas, angles, lens, juxtapositions, sounds, words” (Barnouw, 1993) . Stella Bruzzi notes that some theorists (including historian Barnouw) fear documentary is in “imminent danger of failing” due to such questionable issues of representation (let alone outright lying), but that talk of the ideal pure documentary “uncontaminated by the subjective vagaries of representation” (Bruzzi, 2006) is largely irrational. As Bazin and Baudrillard debate the meanings of image VS reality, they ignore the fact that rational audiences are not bothered by this conundrum, that what matters is upholding the illusion of truth, whether seemingly objective or subjective. What does bother audiences, however, is knowing we have been duped, which breaks our suspension of skepticism, and consequently, our faith in the director’s vision. When it became clear Michael Moore selectively edits his footage in his popular Fahrenheit 9/11 (2004), pundits dismissed Moore’s voice and it is arguable this prevented the film from accomplishing its primary directive of persuading audiences to reject President Bush in the November re-election. If documentarists must bend the truth to service the narrative, the primary directive or the viewability, it should be handled with the utmost care, to avoid the scrutiny of attention-seeking skeptics who are liable to spread negative word-of-mouth and negatively impact the film’s reception.

4. Documentary should borrow the techniques of reality television, just as reality television freely borrows from documentary.

The popular and critical success of documentary today (what could possibly be termed the Golden Age of Documentary) owes itself to the proliferation of reality television in the late 1990s and early 2000s and its ability to present nonfiction content in such a way (observation meets sensationalism) that makes it palatable to a wider audience. Is it any coincidence that nine of the top ten highest grossing documentaries, including Michael Moore’s Fahrenheit 9/11 (2004), Bowling for Columbine (2001) and Sicko (2007) and Morgan Spurlock’s Super Size Me (2004), were released after the debut of Survivor (CBS, 2000 – current), Mark Burnett’s show largely credited with catalyzing the modern craze for reality TV? Often it is this popular viewership to which documentaries are intended to enlighten and educate, if not inspire change, and yet many filmmakers tend to ignore the conventions reality TV (or popular factual entertainment as its referred to with academics such as Stella Bruzzi) has proven to connect with audiences and could therefore help the films better reach and target larger audiences. Some Reality TV promises powerful insight into private affairs, or melodramatic conflict with truth-claims and human social experimentation, giving heightened dramatic edge to otherwise familiar subjects. Bruzzi notes in New Documentary that, while in much of contemporary factual programming, conflict is manufactured (and comes across as contrived), the sensationalist situations can provoke spontaneous conflict that works (Bruzzi, 2006). She also notes the greater importance in “reality documentaries…given to emotion and character,” (Bruzzi, 2006), factors, which, should always be exploited in any documentary.

5. The subject’s representation should be honest, but not at the expense of the documentary’s primary directive or the filmmaker’s vision.

Only if the honest representation of the subject (or of his/her family, friends or colleagues) would require a sacrifice in the documentary’s viewability (on account of a consequential lack of drama, charisma or other tangible appeal) and modus operandi, should the filmmaker consider extremes of selective editing, which could misrepresent said subject in a negative or otherwise dishonest light. In indictment, propaganda, persuasion and exposition documentaries, it is encouraged to selectively edit subject interviews and juxtapose potentially unfair b-roll images, if it will help the documentarist to make his/her point with more effective poignancy. Amy * accomplished this in her Oscar-nominated Deliver us From Evil, a biting portrait of Irish pastor Peter O’Grady, who was convicted of molesting several children during his tenure. O’Grady participated as a form of personal confession but was edited into a smug, emotionless monster, so that Amy could drive home her primary directive: the condemnation of the Catholic Church apparently aware of O’Grady’s behavior. On a related sidebar, when a subject’s representation is constructed via the exclusive use of television clips (which itself have been ruthlessly edited), the result can be highly suspect and can increase the skepticism described in point 3.

6. Beware the curse of narration—except in nature films and com-doc (comedy documentary)!

Narration, be it poetic or empirical can and should be used where necessary to bolster a documentary’s truth claim, but it should not be used as a band-aid solution over weak visual storytelling. Narration bears both blessings and curses as a documentarist’s tool. The Voice-of-God commentary adopted during the birth of the Expository Mode (Nichols, 2001 & Cormer, 2007) is now such an archtype that it is readily dismissed as overly didactic and untrustworthy, the tell-tale sign of unconvincing propaganda, even when used in its most conversational Michael Moore-ian tone. However it is also enormously pleasurable and effective as an anthropomorphizing tool in nature documentary, as Richard Attenborough has proven with his legion of Discovery fans. A general rule of thumb is to use narration sparingly, particularly when it is satirical or witty (audiences seem to trust it when it is comedic in tone). On a separate note, celebrity stunt-casting for voice-over (Morgan Freeman in March of the Penguins; Sigourney Weaver in the American release of BBC Planet Earth) can be effective marketing ploys (ensuring the film itself is more widely seen) but as a gimmick that risks diminishing a documentary’s credibility, particularly with the “prestige-film” demographic through whom documentaries often spread word-of-mouth, filmmakers and producers should proceed with caution before resorting to it too heavily.

7. A documentarist should use all tools of construction – including staged reenactments – to achieve his/her primary directive.

Some pundits believe that tools of artifice should be avoided at all costs to uphold a maximum level of authenticity (and the claim to truth) in documentary. However these tools, which include staged, but highly sophisticated reenactments (whether with some of the original participant(s) such as in Werner Herzog’s Wings of Hope (1999) and Little Dieter Learns to Fly (2000) or hired actors, such as Errol Morris’ The Thin Blue Line (1987) and the First Canadians ) can often increase the production standards (and consequently, the film’s viewability) and should therefore be celebrated and manipulated, when used strategically. However, re-enactments should only be used when potent actuality footage does not exist, as the spontaneity of actuality is generally more persuasive (Stella, 2006) and considered historically authentic (Nichols, 1993).

8. Beware snuff film masquerading as documentary:

Animals (or humans) killed, tortured or otherwise injured for the purpose of (or under the moniker of) documentary, as defined above, are in essence no better than snuff films. Fiction films, which receive flack for all manners of superficial injustice, could never legally resort to the murder of animals; documentary, however, can commit such crimes and label it reenactment, for the purpose of education. POLAR BEAR film] and instead use creative reenactment (via animatronics, CGI mimicry, or elaborate proper and costume design) to accomplish the task whenever the script demands. In this modern cinematic landscape where reenactment is no longer readily dismissed (Stella, 2006) and can achieved

9. The line between experimental film and documentary is not fine – but sometimes it is called poetic or performative documentary.

If documentary is to be taken seriously, it must reject semantics of abstract representation in allowing pretty much any form of expression to be labeled documentary, opening the door for unnecessary confusion, ridicule and criticism from the legitimate, non-arts communities. While it is possible and encouraged to combine most of Bill Nichols’ classic Modes of Documentary (Expository, Participatory, Observational and Reflexive are proven sub-categories), two of his modes—Poetic and Performative—are far more problematic when employed on their own and are therefore suited to categorization in Experimental Film. Some of the most interesting, most widely celebrated documentaries (The Thin Blue Line, Bowling for Columbine, Super-Size-Me and An Inconvenient Truth) have all combined disparate documentary techniques (strict observation, reflexive narration, staged reenactments, poetic metaphors) but all are clearly identifiable as documentaries with distinct primary directives. But what of those poetic “documentaries”, unleashed during the 1920s, including Joris Ivens’ Rain (1929) and even Dziga Vertov’s Man with the Movie Camera, which John Grierson rightly dismissed from the documentary family as [ ]. These films may contain nonfictional shots and are certainly strong examples of cinematic poetry, but with a complete rejection of conventional notions of continuity and location (Nichols, 2001), there are no incontestable truth-claims to be detected beyond abstract commentaries on beauty and time so expressionistic the term non-fiction hardly applies. According to Nichols, the Performative Documentary arrived in the late 1980s to raise questions about “what is knowledge” and “what counts as understanding or comprehension?” (Nichols, 2001) by playing with experiential, scripted and unscripted performances, unusual metaphors and reenactments. If we bend the rules for these arthouse pieces, suggesting documentary is so malleable as to accept formal experimentation for experimentation’s sake, we might as well abandon the terms documentary and fiction altogether. Steven Soderbergh’s Erin Brockovich (2000) is not a fictionalized biopic, it is rather a scripted performative documentary that just so happens to star Julia Roberts and a $60 M budget.

10. It is the documentarist’s job to speak for and on behalf of the other

Some Academics are prone to lament ethnographic documentary’s tendency of speaking for the other. Hal Foster identifies this “Marxist” criticism as questioning an ethnographer paradigm that “displaces the problematic of class and capitalist exploitation with that of race and colonialist oppression … or because it displaces the social with the cultural and the anthropological” (Foster, 1996). How could the documentarian, oftentimes archetyped as members of patriarchal, upper-class artists begin to understand the plights of third-world communities or the impoverished? However, it is important to note that usually the voice of the other might otherwise be ignored if it was not for the documentarist’s ability and training and ideally unbiased perspective to speak on their behalf in such a way that audiences (both the public and governmental spheres with the ability to affect change) want to listen. As the NFB proved when they equipped marginal societies with the equipment required to document their own voices in the Challenge for Change program, the results were generally so amateurish and unremarkable they were rarely seen beyond the community level. Additionally, on a more superficial anthropological note, the appeal of the other for documentary audiences is oftentimes their exotic ‘otherness,’ which can only be truly captured by one who can identify it. The documentarist is typically equipped with the instincts to identify what makes the other so fascinating, and how to capture that in such a way that the primary directive (in this case, likely education, exposition, investigation or documentation) is achieved, ideally without exploiting the other.


References

Alcoff, Linda (1991-2). “The Problem of Speaking for Others.” Cultural Critique, Winter. NC: Oxford University Press

Bruzzi, Stella (2006). New Documentary. : New York: Routledge

Cormer, John (2007). “Documentary in a Post-Documentary Culture? A Note on Forms and their Functions.” Available December, 2007. (http.lboro.ac.uk/research/chaning.media/John%20Corner%20paper.htm)

Foster, Hal (1996). “The Artist as Ethnographer: In The Return of the Real: The Avant-Garde at the End of the Century – An October Book. Cambridge: The MIT Press.

Nichols, Bill (1993). “Getting to Know You … Knowledge, Power, and the Body.” In Renov, M. (Ed.) New York & London: Routledge

Nichols, Bill (2001). “What Types of Documentary Are There?” In Introduction to Documentary. Bloomington & Indianapolis: Indiana University Press

Survival of the Fabulous Promo Posters

These are the first promo pics of Survival of the Fabulous, the glorious documentary on which I've been working. Vote for your faves!

Bridge to Terabithia

Under the ideal direction, the adaptation of Katherine Paterson's Bridge to Terabithia could have been a surefire family classic. The bittersweet story about the powers of human imagination has its heart in the right place, but the execution is so poor it barely registers.

Jesse Aarons is a meager fifth-grader and the constant victim of melodramatic bullying from peers who think he's weird, sisters who call him smelly and low-income parents who want him to do his chores instead of channel his perpetual depression into a sketchbook. Then a smart new girl named Leslie Burke, who doesn't watch TV, shows up to share the classroom bullying, moving next door to the Aarons.' Leslie shows Jesse how to escape the dull reality of their world and they discover a potent friendship along the way.

Jesse and Leslie create the magical Terabithia, a mythical made-up kingdom existing just past the swinging rope in the backyard forest, where they become king and queen of a ramshackle tree fort defending against the invading plagues of squirrels and trolls. The film does a neat job integrating this whimsical world, which begins as an ordinary forest clearing. As Jesse loosens his creative inhibitions, distant views of farmland become vibrant spectacles of untouched jungles and cascading waterfalls, and the mundane forest fauna become monstrously deformed assailants. Soon it grows difficult to discern the difference between the real and the imaginary, except when Csupo decides to employ rather lousy CGI.

The acting, however, is what kills Bridge to Terabithia. Sure nobody expects much from child thespians these days unless it's a Harry Potter film or the kid's last name is Fanning, Breslin or Highmore, but this film sets a new low for studio movies. Outside the adequate sullenness from Josh Hutcherson's down-on-his-luck Jesse, the acting ranges from awkward to grating, including the critical performance of AnnaSophia Robb as Leslie. Supposed to be a wise messenger of creative confidence, she comes across as if she's being fed her lines from just off camera.

Even many the adults have the stench of after-school special woodenness (with the exception of Zooey Deschanel as an inspiring music teacher), chipping away at the polish we expect from Disney family films. It doesn't help that the CGI visuals of the fantasy Terabithia are also sub par. I guess it's an appropriate thing this film is about the strength of imagination, because you'll be needing yours if you plan on surviving until the final credits.

It's a real shame too, because the story is so robust and essential, particularly for children. Many kids today have forgotten how to use their imaginations to escape the daily routines when videogames and web-browsing do such a good alternative job of it. At least encourage your kids to read the book.

Top Ten Films of 2006!!!

It's a little late to be posting my Best Films of 2006 List but I think I've finally seen everything that might actually qualify! Pan's Labyrinth, Notes on a Scandal, Babel and Letters from Iwo Jima are just a few of the recent gems I could've viciously shunned had I not waited til this point. Unfortunately, I must annouce that I did not see Date Movie or Little Man, so they were tragically and perhaps unfairly not considered.

Without further ado, here is the list in reverse order, of course:

Top Ten Films of the Year

10. (tie) Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest: Johnny, Keira and Orlando return for another swashbuckling good time that starts slow but ends with a juicy cliffhanger and some of the niftiest swordfights, well, ever. Okay it's not a great movie, but if you aren't salivating for number 3 coming in May, you're full of shit.

10. (tie) United 93: Paul Greengrass' 9/11 interpretation of the hostage takeover of Flight 93 is about as gut-wrenching as movies get. The proceedings are courageously realist and situational, giving this film an added edge over its Hollywood cousin WTC.

9. Eight Below: You can't go wrong with a troop of adorable Huskies, apparently even with Paul Walker in the lead (luckily he takes off his shirt once). Eight Below is a spirited tearjerker about Arctic survival and contains a few of the best performances of the year. Too bad dogs can't win Oscars.

8. Notes on a Scandal: Oscar-bait has never been so deliciously sensational. When the ravishing new art teacher (Cate Blanchette) in a London school is tempted into a scandalous underage affair, witness and fellow Prof Judi Dench takes advantage like only a raging lesbian sociopath can. Watching these screen goddesses duke it out is a blast.

7. Babel: Definitely worthy of its praise, both as a timely examination of modern intolerance and a showcase of some rather haunting performances. I would've preferred if a few of the four inter-locked narratives ended on a more tragic note, but I guess concluding on a hopeful note can be a good thing too.

6. Pan's Labyrinth: A grim Fairy Tale set in post-WWII fascist Spain, Guillermo del Toro's fascinatingly creepy fable isn't for the wee ones. A little girl travels to live with her pregnant mom's cruel new hubby but decides rather to live in an imaginary world of twisting mazes, sentient mandrakes and sinister monsters with eyes in the palms of their hands. Why she prefers this bizarre nightmare is a mystery, but it makes for an uncanny narrative, both touching and disturbing.

5. Apocalypto: Mel Gibson may be a crazy anti-Semite, but he sure knows how to shoot an engrossing foreign-language action gore-fest. The Mayan vistas are breathtaking, but the thundering pace leaves little room to savour them.

4. The Descent: The slickest, scariest, smartest horror flick to hit theatres since The Ring, this dark subterranean saga teaches us there's only one thing scarier than a claustrophobic cave-in: devolved humanoid killing machines.

3. Letters From Iwo Jima: Clint Eastwood's Japanese companion to Flags of our Fathers is the much stronger film of the two. Letters not only manages to give a haunting historical depiction of desperate measures and forced honor, as the severely short-handed Japanese futilely defend Iwo Jima, but it also allows us the chance to see war from a decidedly new perspective, giving it contemporary relevance during the attacks on the Middle East. Letters may be shot in another language, but the humanity and strength of courage at its heart are not lost in translation.

2. Children of Men: Set in a future where women are inexplicably infertile, this demoralizing dystopia is an absolute rush. Sure it leaves many questions unanswered, but that only makes the backdrop of chaos more harsh and engaging, as we follow the exploits of a few heroes frantically leading one bafflingly pregnant woman to survival.

1. The Departed: The potboiling race between the Boston mafia and police force to discover their respective undercover moles (Leo DiCaprio and Matt Damon) is total popcorn fun and the writing and performances are pure delight.

Mel Redeems with Apocalypto!

Hey all! Check out Apocalypto! Mel's cinematic redemption post The Passion! He may still be an Anti-Simitec bastard, but the man hasn't lost his ability to make a wicked movie!

Apocalypto
Starring Rudy Youngblood, Dalia Hernandez and Raoul Trujillo; directed by Mel Gibson

Whether or not you still hate Mel Gibson for his drunken Anti-Semitic tirade (what is it with celebrities that can’t keep their mouths shut?), Apocalypto is a rousing experience. Mel knows how to make movies (remember Braveheart?), and even though this one’s shot entirely in the Yukatec Maya language, the heart of Apocalypto is absolutely universal. Really it’s all about survival and rising from fear to protect one’s self and his loved ones, themes anyone can understand.

Using his pocket change from the Passion of the Christ (Mel’s love letter to Christians everywhere), Gibson was able to make this baby exactly how he wanted to, without following studio guidelines. It’s an adventure set in the deep jungles of Mesoamerica before the fall of the Mayan Civilization, so Mel shot on location in Mexico’s gorgeous Veracruz, with a cast of unknowns. It tells the riveting story of Jaguar Paw (newcomer Rudy Youngblood), the son of a tapir hunter, who has disturbing dreams foretelling disaster before his small village is beset by an invading Mayan tribe.

If you’ve seen Braveheart or the Passion, you know Mel doesn’t shy away from graphic depictions of gore, so the squeamish best be prepared. Needless to say, the assault is a bloody massacre, as the heavily tattooed tribe slaughters any that resist. The rest, including Jaguar Paw, who successfully hid his wife Seven (Hernandez) and son before being captured himself, are violently bound for a journey to the tribesmen’s city.

The story intercuts between Jaguar and Seven, who is stranded at the bottom of a cavern pit, allowing Mel to fuel both the heroic suspense and our empathy for these characters. What you’ll witness in the Mayan capital is graphic, brutal and terrifying. Mel has created a bustling Sodam and Gomorrah, towering with pyramids surrounded by thousands of bloodthirsty peons who erupt in raging bliss as their leaders make public sacrifices to the gods. The attention paid to detail is breathtaking, though a tad unsettling to think about who had to create the pit of rotting decapitated corpses.

Apocalypto is a spectacular ride. It’s marred by a few realism-killing cases of dues-ex-machina, but right to the clever finish, you’ll literally be on the edge of your seat.

Rating: Four stars out of five

Casino Royale

All right, so for my first blog, I thought I'd post my review of Casino Royale. Keep checking back for all the latest reviews!

Mike

Casino Royale
Directed by Martin Campbell
Starring Daniel Craig, Eva Green, Judi Dench
Rating: Four Stars

Casino Royale is a gritty new romp in the tantalizing world of 007. Based off Ian Fleming’s first James Bond novel, the film is also an unsentimental departure for the movie series itself, with an exciting performance in brawny Daniel Craig’s debut and a plot more interested in humanizing Bond than giving him new toys with which to play.

The story explores the early days of Mr. Bond’s MI6 career but in a contemporary 2006, allowing the story to explore the hero’s roots without forfeiting his modern edge. He’s still driving the slickest of vehicles—though no cheesy stealth devices, ejection seats or other Inspector Gadget gizmos outfitted—and defeating terrorists with evil agendas involving WMDs we’ll find nicely familiar and pseudo-timely.

Action gluttons will be happy to know the 21st Bond flick doesn’t sacrifice the violence with its newfound emphasis on story. Casino Royale, in fact, has some of the best set pieces seen all year, which somehow manage graphic, aggressive and convincing, despite the PG-13 rating. His first mission as a 007 agent spying on a terrorist in Madagascar involves an intense chase up and down a construction yard, some fancy footwork through a bustling village and a big explosion-fueled narrow escape.

The stuntwork and acrobatics of this one scene alone are absolutely eye-popping, convincing us immediately that Craig is at least a more-than-competent physical choice for Mr. Bond. The rest of the film is admittedly slower paced, but at least director Campbell has chosen a marvelous way to grab hold and keep our attention.

After seducing the clothes off his first Bond Girl and some A-plus heroics in a Miami airport, it’s off to Montenegro for a high-stakes poker game at the titular hotel, to foil the evil plans of a Terrorist Banker. Here we meet the true Bond girl, Vesper Lynd, an MI6 accountant assigned to watch over Bond’s poker session.

Casino Royale takes a long time to build its way towards the core mission and an even longer time unraveling it. The poker stuff relies too much on the convenient revelation of increasingly better hands, as if Bond and Badguy are actually pro-star bluffers and not just benefiting from clever editing. The final act is particularly overlong, with torture, lovemaking, double-crossing duty and a wicked final showdown in Venice (with a sinking domicile) to contend with before the credits roll. We’re expected to care for James’ relationship with Vesper Lynd after only a montage of romance, as if we don’t know he’ll have a new babe come Bond 22.

There’s another problem with the Bond girl herself. Eva Green has the right amount of sass for the role and the leads have chemistry, but the character itself is too weak, too vulnerable, and too likely to be grabbed by a goon and used as a body shield. I don’t expect them all to kick as much butt as Halle Berry’s sexpot Jinx in Die Another Day, but one wonders about the spy-usefulness of Vesper Lynd if she can’t even operate a gun.

Luckily, Daniel Craig gives an intensely humanized performance in a role that has been rendered a cartoon by the cheesier flicks before, which is quite a feat. It goes a little long, but Casino Royale is a welcome new start for the franchise.