Brother Number One

This review first appeared in the Sunday Star Times, 4th March 2012

As anyone who’s been there will tell you, Cambodia isn’t just the place for a cheap, hot, Asian holiday. The country carries scars from a tragic past that happened within most of our lifetimes, as a quarter of the population of eight million were killed, whether by starvation, overwork or literal “smashing”, by their leader Pol Pot’s Khmer Rouge regime.

New Zealand producer James Bellamy has a strong connection with Cambodia, and on approaching Olympian Rob Hamill some years ago they banded together, with acclaimed documentary maker Annie Goldson, to produce an incredible story about the genocide. What brings this story close to home for us in New Zealand is that it tracks the murder of Hamill’s brother, Kerry, by the Khmer Rouge, after his boat strayed innocently into Cambodian waters – very much a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Goldson’s documentary manages the remarkable feat of being intense, powerful and desperately sad, without needing to manipulate those feelings in its audience. The soundtrack is sparse. The Cambodians are stoic. Hamill allows us to follow his journey to find the truth about his brother’s fate, but he doesn’t spend the whole time crying on camera. Instead we visit the recently established ECCC (civil court) where the regime’s top players are on trial for crimes against humanity. Hamill gets the opportunity to read out a victim impact statement, 31 years after his brother’s disappearance, and as he talks the court through the devastation it brought upon his family, we are completely captivated, and in turn mortified, at each revelation.

Brother Number One is a necessarily hard watch, but has so much compassion and grace that the audience is not left feeling desolate by the end. Optimistically, one hopes that as people see this film, and appreciate the depths of horror inflicted upon the Cambodian people, we will be mobilised into a better way of being. For the Hamills, the sharing of their anguish may hopefully provide some sort of catharsis.

Fastest

This review first appeared in the Sunday Star Times, 4th December 2011

Hopefully this year’s brilliant TT3D: Closer to the Edge has whetted the appetite of fans of documentary, motorcycle racing and extensive use of riders’ eye camerawork, because there are further thrills to be had watching Fastest.

Director Mark Neale’s follow-up to his 2003 film Faster follows the superstars of the MotoGP World Championships in 2010 and 2011. Our heroes are the good-natured daredevil Valentino Rossi and his team-mate and rival, the more circumspect Jorge Lorenzo. Although the portraits are not as intimate as with Guy Martin in TT3D, the GP riders have charm in spades and plenty to say. Rossi in particular is the pride and joy of his Italian home town, where cardboard cut-outs bearing his image appear in doorways, on shop fronts and on billboards. Growing up, his racing made him “the despair of the police”, the locals tell us with evident delight. (In Italian, the term for motorcycle rider is “centauro”, literally centaur, those mythical part-human, part-horse creatures, which shows the great esteem in which they are held.)

Bike enthusiast Ewan McGregor narrates a potted history of the sport, explaining the relevance of Rossi’s numerous wins and later losses, and the high stakes played by all the riders. The race footage of crashes and smashes is eye-bulging stuff, as you’d expect in a film about this sport, and you’ll find yourself on the edge of your seat for much of it. It is also poignant seeing the recently killed Marco Simonelli speaking so brightly of a future in the game.

Although not completely personality-driven, the film allows for a fascinating insight into a rider’s motivation for leaving a winning team to join the competition (it’s not just about the money) and his commitment to winning at all costs. Fastest is enormously entertaining and thrilling, and safer experienced in the cinema than trying it at home

When a City Falls

This review first appeared in the Sunday Star Times, 4th December 2011

A year has not yet passed since 182 people lost their lives in the Christchurch earthquake, and it’s sobering to know that thousands have still to face their first Christmas in the wake of the tragedy. As the city has got back on its feet and is already making plans for a rebuild, it’s timely to look back at the event that will define 2011 for many of us.

This beautifully photographed documentary starts at the beginning, the first big shake in September 2010, when afterward the locals felt they had been “big-time blessed” in the absence of any deaths. Interviewing workers and families and people on the street, we see good ol’ Kiwi humour in the face of adversity as someone forced to drive through flooded streets remarks wryly “at least now we’ve justified our inner city four-wheel drive”.

Gerard Smyth’s ode to his home city could so easily have been just another talking heads piece about the tragedy of losing loved ones, and indeed it is heartfelt and generous in its treatment of those involved.  But this documentary covers all the elements of Canterbury’s three major earthquakes, sharing not just the personal experiences but geological explanation of fault lines and examination of the region’s geography.  We see people concerned about protecting the architecturally significant features of condemned buildings; there is talk of the pending rebuild; and advice given graciously by those who have lived through similar destruction in San Francisco, Portland and New Orleans.

The film is a big emotional journey, all the more so as we know what’s coming hot on the heels of September’s relief – there is an inevitable poignancy in seeing Christchurch’s landmarks before they were eventually rendered unrecognisable, and footage of the quakes makes for harrowing viewing whether you were caught up in it or watched on the television news.

But although incredibly moving, the story is not relentlessly grim. Instead, the demonstrations of love and care – between locals, out-of-towners, the Student Army that waded through liquefied earth to clear people’s yards, and the international emergency service workers from Japan, Taiwan and Australia – send out a message of hope and remind us that it’s this sharing and unity that is key to every experience.

Eco-Pirate: The Story of Paul Watson

This film about one of Greenpeace’s original members and his subsequent break-out to operate as an eco-warrior and ocean vigilante is a perfect mix of cult of personality, dramatic sea voyages and the worthy cause of fighting for the planet.  Favouring direct action, including ramming or scuttling whaling ships, over non-violent witnessing and protest, Watson comes across as an uncompromisingly principled activist whose interpersonal relationships are casualties of his own war.

Cave of Forgotten Dreams

This review first appeared in the Sunday Star Times, 16th October 2011

If you’re already into cave paintings and find the prospect of Werner Herzog’s awestruck voiceover compelling, you’ll love this. If you suffer from ennui or claustrophobia whenever you watch a documentary that features two-dimensional mammoth drawings or people climbing through tiny spaces, you can look away now.

Herzog is a remarkable film-maker who seems to light upon a new topic that fascinates him, then long to share that passion with us. As a boy he saved his pocket money to buy a book he’d spied in a thrift store, subsequently poring over it in wonderment. The book was about cave paintings, and ignited a fire that would be stoked decades later in customary random-crazy-Herzog fashion.

In 1994, a group of scientists discovered a series of caves in Southern France, within which paintings said to be 32,000 years old line the walls. Having closed off the caves to the public, the authorities awarded Herzog exclusive access, enabling him to take a skeleton crew of film-makers and historians inside, record the artworks and discuss their likely origins. Shot in 3D, it’s a slow, beautiful, potentially soporific film composed of long shots that take us as close as we’ll ever get to such unfathomable examples of real history.

TT 3D: Closer to the Edge

This review first appeared in the Sunday Star Times, 28th August 2011

Every now and then a film comes along that restores your faith in the value of moviemaking. More often than not, it’s a documentary.

Films such as Touching the Void and Grizzly Man have taken us places we’d never go on our own, and made for literally breathless viewing. A film that gets us inside the heads and hearts of its characters makes for a much more rewarding movie-going experience than a million rom-coms and comic book adaptations rolled into one (which, it increasingly feels, they are).

Here, sensational 3D photography follows 28-year-old Guy Martin as he prepares to race at the 2010 Isle of Man TT (Tourist Trophy) Race, arguably the greatest motorcycle road race in the world. Up against the fastest, brightest stars of the racing world, he’s been on the podium enough times, but never taken a win. Vying to be crowned “King of the Mountain” are Ian Hutchison, the softly-spoken David Beckham of the crowd, and local Manx boy Conor Cummins. They are sons of fallen heroes, and racers for whom nothing else in life matters. Everyone has his story, and we hang on their every word.

Of course, core to a good piece of non-fiction storytelling is not just its often stranger-than-fiction journey, but an entertaining and engaging central character. While a film-maker who picks up a camera to shoot real-life events can’t usually predict how things will unfold, they can take a punt on their subject. By following the guts and glory trajectory of the amusing, opinionated, Wolverine-like Martin in this exhilarating race to the top, director Richard De Aragues produces one such stroke of documentary brilliance.

You don’t have to know a Honda from a Ducati, much less care, to be enthralled by every minute of this exquisite emotionally charged film. There are inevitably thrills and spills, joy and tragedy. As one pundit puts it – “if you’re not excited, you’re not alive”.

Precious Life

This review first appeared in the Sunday Star Times, 31st July 2011

Precious Life is an unsophisticated, artless documentary, more akin in style to a home video, which begins slowly but builds to become absolutely mesmerising.

A sick Palestinian baby, desperately in need of a bone marrow transplant, is being tended to by Jewish doctors at a hospital in Israel.  His Arab parents find themselves caught between the desire to save their son’s life and criticism from their own people that they are being aided by the enemy.  (Even the mother is conflicted: “The Israelis do strange things for us.”)

Shlomi Eldar is a prominent Israeli journalist who works to get things in front of a television audience to force change and help people.  He publicises the case, an anonymous donor steps in, and the race is then on to find family members whose tissue will match.  In the face of ongoing conflict that prevents easy passage between Gaza and Tel Aviv, Eldar shoots the story against the inevitable backdrop of war.

This sounds like heavy stuff, but miraculously Eldar’s tiny film eschews big drama, is scarce with its soundtrack, and simply keeps shooting even when his own assumptions are challenged and his instinct is to switch off and go home.  A central conversation about the sanctity of life is confronting and enthralling, and audiences will come away much the richer.

Brother Number One

In 2008 I went to Cambodia and, despite having travelled much of the rest of the world, I found it to be the most emotional, joyous, devastating experience of my life.  No, really.  Cambodia isn’t just the place for a cheap, Asian holiday.  The whole country carries scars from a tragic past that happened within most of our lifetimes, as a quarter of the country’s population was killed, whether by starvation, overwork or literal “smashing”, by Pol Pot’s Khmer Rouge regime.

NZ producer James Bellamy has a strong connection with Cambodia, and on approaching Olympian Rob Hamill some years ago they banded together, with acclaimed documentary maker Annie Goldson, to produce an incredible story about the genocide.  What brings this story close to home is that it tracks the murder of Hamill’s brother, Kerry, by the Khmer Rouge – after his boat strayed innocently into Cambodian waters, very much a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Goldson’s documentary manages the remarkable feat of being intense, powerful and desperately sad, without needing to manipulate those feelings in its audience.  The soundtrack is scarce.  The Cambodians are stoic.  Rob Hamill allows us to follow his journey to find the truth about his brother’s fate, but he doesn’t spend the whole time crying on camera.  Instead we visit the recently established ECCC (civil court) where the regime’s top players are on trial for crimes against humanity.  Hamill gets the opportunity to read out a victim impact statement, 31 years after his brother’s disappearance, and as he talks the court through the devastation it brought upon his family, we are completely captivated and in turn mortified at each revelation.

Brother Number One is a necessarily hard watch, but one that holds in its hands so much compassion and grace, the audience is not left feeling desolate by the end.  The hope is that more people will see this film, appreciate the depths of horror inflicted upon the Cambodian people, and mobilise us all into a better way of being.  For the Hamills, at very least, my wish is that in sharing their anguish it may provide some sort of catharsis.

Senna

When people rave about a film you’re yet to see, particularly overseas reviewers in worthy film magazines, you get excited – but there’s still a feeling of suspicion about really how great the film can possibly be.  Senna has been receiving high praise, and after only one month of release was the fifth highest grossing documentary at the UK box office – ever.  That’s certainly saying something.

As it turns out, Senna – an account of the Formula One racing days of Brazilian super-hero Ayrton Senna – is just what it says on the tin.  Director Asif Kapadia pulls together found footage of Senna and the various races, pre-race meetings, and interviews with key players of the time, and splices this into a completely gripping, enthralling documentary.  While we occasionally have Senna’s words as voiceover, there are no new interviews, which makes the film fairly unusual in doco terms.  But it’s enough.  We have everything we need to gain a full picture of the handsome, gentle, spiritual young man who provided Brazil with its “only hope” during decades of despair (we see locals openly admitting that Brazil has nothing going for it “except Senna”).

Kapadia follows a standard narrative formula for sports documentaries, naturally focusing on the important races, covering the lead-up, the emotional make-up of the subjects, and providing an exciting record of the game in action.  Thus we frequently find ourselves in the driver’s seat (well, actually at his right shoulder) with the use of in-car camera footage – thrilling as we weave around the racetrack at speeds of more than 200km/hour – and giving us the necessary insight into just how difficult it is to drive Formula One well, and win.

You don’t have to be a racing fan to care.  Ayrton Senna comes across as an exceptionally humble, completely committed young man, outrageously disqualified from world champion status one year, and graciously raising this as a grievance the following.  It’s not a spoiler to say that Senna tragically lost his life at age 34.  What is devastating about this film is watching him so talented, so alive, and knowing that calamity is just around the corner.

Page One: Inside the New York Times

So you think you wanna be a writer?

This fascinating insight behind the scenes at one of the most lauded daily newspapers in the world will either have you hankering for the journalistic lifestyle, or leave you with the sobering thought that print news is a dying media.

This is how the interviewees would have you see it, anyway.  For the most part the documentary considers how the mighty Internet and its capacity for free, uncontrolled, Everyman publishing presents a huge threat to traditional print media.  This, we already know.  Doubtless many of us read our newspapers (local and international) online, and for free, enabling a far wider, more global take on current affairs.

What’s interesting is the fact that while news aggregator sites such as The Huffington Post are partly blamed for the change in wind direction, a NY Times media reporter makes the salient point that without the newspapers, they wouldn’t have news to aggregate.

Said reporter, David Carr, is our voice during the film – ex-junkie and single dad, he peels off pithy one-liners that don’t just sound clever but actually ring true.  His thinly veiled outrage when interviewing his subjects at Vice magazine is entertaining and inspiring.  But as he admits – if you write about the media long enough, eventually you’ll type your way to your own front door.

There is a terrific scene where the news team get wind of the USA’s decision to withdraw troops from the Middle East, via the TV media rather than the Pentagon, and are not sure what to rely on – a curious but no doubt common incidence of primary and secondary sources starting to blur (“Is this a media story, or an ‘actual’ story?” quips the news chief.)

Page One isn’t a day-in-the-life, but it’s a very pertinent analysis of journalism’s present and predicted future.  Screening in the week that Rupert Murdoch’s empire starts to crumble, a film like this couldn’t come at a better time.