LFM: Libertas Film Magazine

By Joe Bendel. When the 3/11 earthquake and tsunami hit Japan, many who of us worried our close Japanese friends and allies were not getting the same high level attention in Washington and international diplomatic circles as the 2010 earthquake that rocked Haiti. Ironically, Japan might be more fortunate in that respect. Leftist filmmaker Raoul Peck argues international aid efforts in Haiti have largely done more harm than good in Fatal Assistance, which opens this Friday in New York.

With mostly good intentions, the world rushed to aid quake-devastated Haiti. The Interim Haiti Reconstruction Commission (IHRC) was instituted with Bill Clinton and Haitian PM Jean-Max Bellerive installed as co-chairs. Right from the start, it acted like any other hydra-headed multi-national quasi-governmental body.

Peck irrefutably establishes some of the charges in his wide ranging indictment. Without question, the various competing NGOs woefully underperformed in the debris removal process. They were so focused on grand rebuilding schemes, they had neither the expertise nor the donor interest in doing the very work necessary to make the rebuilding stage possible. It is also pretty hard to defend the flood-prone temporary housing constructed (at not inconsiderable cost) in the temporary camps that became permanent new slums. Also, Peck gives rather short shrift to the effect of the UN’s pointless arms embargo, which left Bellerive unable to arm his new police recruits.

However, Peck does not connect the international conspiracy dots nearly as well as he thinks he does. Often, he shows various IHRC proceedings as if they were “ah-hah” moments, but only he can see the smoking gun. In fact, he does his best to ignore the widespread corruption that made the NGO sector legitimately leery of the Haitian government. It might be disappointing that Peck lets Haitian politicians off the hook so easy, but it is understandable, considering he happens to be one himself, having served as Minister of Culture under PM Rosny Smarth’s short-lived administration.

As much as Peck wants to focus on the international relief “industry,” questions regarding domestic corruption are highly pertinent. Recently, the Filipino expat community largely shunned government agencies in favor of organizations like the International Red Cross precisely because of similar concerns. Still, it is hard to have much confidence in the IHRC, the OAS or any of the rest of the do-gooding alphabet soup based on the results Peck documents.

In fact, if anyone emerges as Fatal’s genuine bad guy, it is Bill Clinton, whom Peck explicitly accuses of using the tragedy as a disgusting ego-stroke. According to Peck and frustrated aid workers, the Hot Springs native is far more concerned with preening at ribbon cutting ceremonies than actually resolving the IHRC’s internal divisions or doing any sort of work in general.

Peck will convince just about every viewer of his general thesis: international aid is often misallocated and counter-productive. However, his assorted sub-points do not always convince. Frankly, Fatal just as easily supports the sort of Public Choice Theory analysis developed by the late Nobel Lauriat James Buchanan, who argued that government (and presumably extra-governmental NGO) bureaucrats are just as influenced by self-interest as anyone operating in the private sector. Fatal will engender pity for Haiti and contempt for Clinton, but Landon Van Soest’s Good Fortune remains a more thoughtful exploration of unintended consequences of first to third world aid programs. Sometimes quite revealing, but rather scattershot in its insight, Fatal Assistance is narrowly recommended for those interested in the politics of disaster relief when it opens this Friday (2/28) at the Elinor Bunin Munroe Film Center.

LFM GRADE: B-

Posted on February 25th, 2014 at 1:14am.

By Joe Bendel. Don’t call it a last hurrah. Kazuhiko Yamauchi, Kawasaki’s world famous city council candidate, has decided to throw his hat in the ring again. This time, he will forgo the indignities of electioneering, running a bare-bones campaign as a complete independent with no party support. He will also be the only candidate adopting an anti-nuclear position in the wake of the Fukushima crisis. The result will be another lesson in Japanese democracy, recorded in Kazuhiro Soda’s documentary sequel, Campaign 2, which screens tomorrow as part of MoMA’s 2014 Documentary Fortnight.

Even though Yama-san was successful as the LDP’s unlikely standard-bearer in the special council election Soda followed the first time round, he soon resigned his position, claiming frustration with the recalcitrant political system. Six or so years later, the stay-at-home dad is giving it another go. This time he is only spending money on the filing fee and the tightly regulated campaign posters. Shrewdly, his closely resembles the poster for Soda’s original documentary.

Since he is not hiring loud-speaker cars or harassing commuters at transit hubs, Yamauchi has a lot of time to chew the political fat with his old classmate Soda. Frankly, in Campaign 1, Yamauchi was cringingly obsequious, but the more experienced Yama-san has some surprisingly acerbic commentary to offer regarding his colleagues. However, his anti-nuclear platform is still not so well thought out, unless he is eager for Japan to start importing massive tons of coal and fossil fuels.

Of course, Yamauchi is still the protagonist of Campaign 2, but Soda’s focus is wider. It is clear he is as preoccupied with the ways the 3-11 disasters have affected daily life in Japan as Yama-san, if not more so. Perhaps even more fascinating are his interactions with the politicians who know him from their supporting roles in Campaign 1. In fact, New Yorkers accustomed to Chuck Schumer will be absolutely flabbergasted to see politicians who do not want to be filmed (shocking, but true).

Arguably, the real takeaway from Campaign 2 is not Yama-san’s anti-nuclear platform, but the shallow nature of Japanese political campaigns, especially at a critical post-3-11 juncture. Bizarrely, an apparent gentlemen’s agreement still holds, largely nixing candidate debates. Basically, they just smile and repeat their names.

At one hundred fifty minutes, Campaign 2 could stand for some pruning here and there. However, Yamauchi’s new found wit and attitude is a nice surprise that does not come at the expense of his lovable loser likability. Like its predecessor, Campaign 2 is another eccentric yet serious look under the hood of Japanese democracy. Recommended for political junkies and Yama-san groupies, Campaign 2 screens Saturday (2/22) as part of MoMA’s Doc Fortnight, with Soda present for Q&A both days.

LFM GRADE: B

Posted on February 21st, 2014 at 10:10pm.

By Joe Bendel. As an independent station way up in northern Maine, Channel 83 is not exactly the fast track to a network career, but they know how to cover mysterious disappearances. Thanks to an unearthly entity, they can look forward to some salad days in Joe Begos’ throwback 1980’s style sci-fi slasher flick, Almost Human, which releases this Friday in Los Angeles and on VOD.

Something in the Maine woods chased Seth Hampton to his buddy Mark Fisher’s cabin. Initially, the outdoorsman dismisses Hampton’s panic, but it turns out that the alien force prefers the burly Fisher. After a flash of blue light and piercing tone, Fisher is sucked out of the house, leaving Fisher’s girlfriend Jen Craven and the guilt-ridden Hampton behind. For a while, the police key in on Hampton as their prime suspect, a development the confused Craven does little to discourage. However, no evidence can be found to implicate Hampton.

Two years later, Hampton tries to live a quiet life as the town weirdo, but he is plagued by disturbing visions of similar horrors. We soon learn Fisher has returned, or at least the shell of his body under alien control. As he preys on Maine’s backwoodsmen, Hampton and Craven reconcile, hoping to find some answers and a bit of closure. Not so fortunately, the malevolently mutated Fisher soon comes looking for Craven.

Throughout Almost Human, Begos deliberately goes for a low budget retro-eighties look, much like Ti West did with House of the Devil, except even grubbier. Frankly, it seems strange to emulate the look of 1980’s straight-to-video horror, when it is so easy for genre fans to find the genuine article. Still, he shows a flair for inventive gore, but the narrative is defiantly workaday stuff.

Arguably, the work of Graham Skipper and Josh Ethier are also a cut above those typically found in 80’s grind ‘em outs. Skipper (whom some might recognize from the Off-Broadway production of Re-Animator: the Musical) is actually quite engaging as the everyman Hampton trying to hold onto the last shred of his sanity. Conversely, Ethier (who also doubled as editor and co-producer) is an interesting looking heavy, whom we can sort of buy into as a hardscrabble one-man version of Jack Sholder’s under-appreciated The Hidden.

In a way, the consistency of Begos’ no-frills vision is quite impressive (right down to the old school UHF news reports we see from the fictional Channel 83), but a little goes a long way. Ultimately, Begos just defrosts some red meat leftover from the 1980’s (admittedly a great decade) rather than pulling together a nourishing feast. Serviceable as a midnight movie, but nothing viewers will carry with them after the show, Almost Human opens today (2/21) in Los Angeles at the Arena Cinema and next Wednesday (2/26) in New York at the IFC Center.

LFM GRADE: C+

Posted on February 21st, 2014 at 10:04pm.

By Joe Bendel. Perhaps you always suspected Chinese mental hospitals were not very hospitable. If so, your suspicions have been definitively vindicated by documentarian Wang Bing’s nearly four hour descent into the everyday lunacy of a decrepit facility located somewhere in the southwest provinces. Tellingly, the inmates often joke this place will “drive you crazy.” The same might be said for viewers, but there is no denying the weightiness and immediacy of Wang’s ‘Til Madness Do Us Part, which screens tomorrow as part of MoMA’s 2014 Documentary Fortnight.

Yes, some of the patients/inmates/prisoners have been committed for being politically difficult. However, they have been mixed in with killers, hardcore schizophrenics, and slightly loony relatives someone wanted to get out of the house. Unlike bad old Soviet psychotherapy, the doctors are not constantly poking and prodding the patients. In fact, staff members are rarely seen throughout the course of a day. Think Lord of the Flies instead of 1984. Frankly, it is like Bedlam in there.

Throughout most of the film, Wang and his fellow cameraman Liu Xianhui are confined to the top men’s floor of the facility. The layout not so coincidently resembles a prison, with a central corridor overlooking the interior courtyard. Viewers will become quite familiar with this fenced in passageway, because Wang and Liu will pursue many a disturbed patient as they go tearing around and around it.

Obviously, there are many issues with this sanatorium, starting first and foremost with the conspicuous lack of resources. The level of care is also problematic, mainly consisting of the daily dispensing of happy pills, at least as far as viewers can tell. There is even a mute inmate whose identity remains a mystery to staff and patients alike. Right, what are the chances he will be cured of what troubles him?

Given the 228 minute running time, Wang can hardly be accused of selective editing. Madness is an immersive experience more than a muckraking expose. Yet, the micro and macro implications are inescapable. Nobody would want to be there. Yet, Wang still finds pockets of humanity in the bleakness, such as the man who has somehow commenced a romantic relationship with a woman confined to a lower floor, mostly through stolen conversations through barred doors and the like.

Everything about Madness will intimidate casual audiences, with good reason. Frankly, the best way to see it is probably as a reviewer, because we are able to break it down into manageable pieces. Nevertheless, Wang is arguably the leading Chinese documentary filmmaker of our day. Anyone who seriously follows independent Chinese cinema will want to keep up with his latest. While not nearly as emotionally involving as his heartbreaking Three Sisters or the draining Fengming: A Chinese Memoir, it still has plenty of sobering moments. Recommended for stout-hearted cineastes, ‘Til Madness Do Us Part screens tomorrow (2/19), in all its 228 minute glory, as part of this year’s Doc Fortnight at MoMA.

LFM GRADE: B

February 18th, 2014 at 9:14pm.