The Borneo Case

Remember, back in the 90s, learning that the world's rainforests were the "lungs of the earth?"  Remember hearing about their destruction and specifically Sarawak, the Penan and their indigenous uprising there, the mysterious disappearance of Bruno Manser?  If you do, you'll appreciate this documentary. The Borneo Case fills in a lot of the blanks, for those of us who subsequently got busily immersed in our own rainforest and other struggles closer to home.  It's also an important history lesson for younger folk who haven't heard all this, especially if you're wondering who to vote for in BC's Provincial election, just around the corner.

The Borneo Case exposes a story of government/corporate collusion and corruption far away.  We don't yet know specific details about whether and how that's happening here.  But what's frighteningly similar is the basic storyline:  Indigenous people have lived on the land for many thousands of years.  Governments/Corporations come along and claim the land as their own.  Bulldozers clear the land, destroying lives and history and home.  For profit.  Because that's not enough, they start building dams, displacing more indigenous and settler peoples and destroying more landscapes.  And all for export.  Sounds familiar?

The Borneo Case screens February 7th at 6:30 pm and February 9th at 9:15 pm at the Capitol 6.  Don't miss it!

The Prison in Twelve Landscapes

I don't know what to make of this film, honestly.  It is cinematically very appealing, with intriguing music and several thought provoking moments.  There are a lot of black people interviewed, or just appearing as part of the scenery.  It doesn't point fingers, or ask its audience to reach any particular conclusions.  It leaves a lot of questions unanswered.

For example, it's titled the prison rather than a prison.  So, which prison?  The one at the end of the movie, the huge fortress-like place in upstate New York?  Or the prison of economic madness, the prison industrial complex with its "job security," with side industries like the guy in his warehouse full of prison approved clothing, music, and food for sale to families and friends who want to make life more comfortable for their incarcerated friends.  He's a nice guy, the warehouse owner, it's a smart business.  He doesn't seem like the kind of guy who wants the prison system to expand, though it would be good for his bottom line.

Early on a young man implies prisons provide the best kind of work because those are jobs that definitely won't be shipped overseas.  He's hoping the prison will return to his town because the coal industry has pulled out and left them economically devastated. 

What kind of freedom is this nation, this economy, promoting, when young black men are killed on the streets but their murderers go free, while a woman spends 15 days in jail for refusing to pay the $175 fine she received when her garbage can lid wasn't securely enough fastened to the garbage can?  

Is there something I'm supposed to get from this film that I just didn't?  I feel frustrated.

Go see the film February 7th at 9:15 or February 9th at 6:30 pm at the Capitol 6.

The Prison in Twelve Landscapes Trailer from Brett Story on Vimeo.

India in a Day

I watched India in a Day on the same day, coincidentally, that I helped pack up my friend's little apartment.  He travelled to India a year ago intending to evolve his spiritual journey, and he loves it so much he hasn't returned.  After sorting through his prayer beads, incense, and meditation books I joined the flock at the Vic Theatre to see India from a different angle.

October 10th, 2015 is the day Indians of all stripes (well, a few different stripes) documented short video sequences of their lives, and the lives of the people around them.  The filmmakers performed some kind of magic taking countless hours of random video from all around the continent and weaving together a story celebrating the diversity, and the unity, of the nation. 

Viewers were subtly reminded, early on in this film, that access to technology is something so many of us around the world take for granted.  While we are bombarded with wifi and cellphone tower signals, not to mention all the radio waves (wonderful though they are) and etc, in India these are treasured and rare conveniences.

Someone behind me, as we were exiting the theatre, noted that the film was a bit short on presenting the spiritual face of India, although it presented a united and happy cross section of the people.  My travelling friend would agree that India's younger generations aren't as intent on the spiritual path as their elders.  Interestingly it is the many 'western' visitors who pilgrimage there, he says, who are most likely to be seeking the path to spiritual enlightenment.  India's youth apparently quest more for convenience, technology, and comfort than spiritual fulfillment. 

The many diverse Indians with access to the technology we take for granted, who were able to share their India in a Day experiences, offer a tiny but important (and very colourful!) glimpse into this shifting population.

Before the Streets

Is it racist for a white settler to acknowledge that there is something that can perhaps be described as "native time?"  Not in a derogative way, but rather in a somewhat envious way.  As in, if I could plug into "native time" more frequently, my life would be less harried, less frenzied, more contemplative.  It would feel more natural to just go-with-the-flow.  

Maybe we'd all be better off if we could learn to relax a bit, chill, meditate, take a moment to contemplate the many images and expressions that constantly bombard us rather than trying to process them in quick succession or get caught in their stream.

If it's not okay to suggest that such a thing as "native time" exists then I'd like to merely suggest that, if you're planning to see Before the Streets, don't go there expecting it to be fast moving continuous action and dialogue.  Because it's not.  It's a difficult story that asks us to consider both the significance of each moment, and the concept of eternity. 

I think we can all agree that within every moment there's an opportunity to make a decision that could influence the rest of our lives.  If we find ourselves in a difficult situation, and we make a bad decision, how much power should that moment have to forever haunt us?  If we're forced to give up power because we've made a bad decision, who do we trust to help us get back on track?  And, which track?

Before the Streets asks these questions, and more.  Does it answer them?  I don't know, I'm still thinking about it.  Go see it Monday February 6th, 7 pm at Odeon 5.

BEFORE THE STREETS- (AVANT LES RUES)- by Chloé Leriche (trailer) in theaters april 15th from Funfilmdistribution on Vimeo.

Theatre of Life

Theatre of Life is a kind of "Food Not Bombs" Italian style, except with professional chefs, a renovated dining hall, and table service.  

Ironically, the concept was conceived during Milan's Expo 2015 whose theme was Feeding the Planet, Energy for Life.  Massimo Bottura had the brilliant idea of taking uncooked food waste from the Expo (and other places) and inviting impoverished people to join a community of chefs and filmmakers for the short term purpose of nourishment and community, and the longer term faith in a greater awareness prompting more permanent change.

Theatre of Life's second show is already sold out, but at the time of this posting tickets are still available for the first screening February 10th, 6:15 at Silver City.  And, I have it on good authority that it'll be on Netflix sometime in the future so watch for it!

Check out the trailer, and you can listen to an interview with writer and director Peter Svaytek here.

Abacus: Small Enough to Jail

While the Obama administration handed some major banks millions of dollars to save them from financial collapse in 2008, with the claim they were "too big to fail," it took 10 million dollars and five years of their lives for the family run Abacus bank to prove themselves innocent of the District Attorney's charges.  Fraud had occurred at their bank, employee Ken Yu went to jail for that, but founder Thomas Sung and his three management level daughters were found not guilty on all charges because they weren't directly involved.

This documentary chronicles Mr. Sung's early career, as a young immigrant who studied law and for many years worked many pro bono cases including for New York City's  Chinatown Benevolent Society.  His idea to start a bank met with discouragement from his wife, but Mr. Sung wanted to establish a place where Chinese people were welcome to both deposit money and receive loans.  With his daughters they crafted Abacus bank, named after the Chinese calculator, and built a structure designed to help a community that met too often with discrimination and inequity.

As Mr. Sung stands among over 8000 security deposit boxes he explains it takes a lot of time to build the trust of new immigrants, so their practice is to store their cash in the deposit boxes until they feel confident depositing it into the bank itself.

Despite the District Attorney's best efforts to discredit this family, who admittedly oversaw a financial institution where fraud was occurring but immediately took steps to remedy it and dismiss those who were perpetuating it once they were discovered, the Sung family brought their struggle to the people.  During the five years of court proceedings they continued to discuss the case openly over family dinners in Chinatown's restaurants, while walking down the street talking on cellphones, or with the local barber during a haircut. 

Abacus was the only bank indicted during the 2008 financial crisis.  Employees were arrested at their workplace, chained together and led out of the bank in a manner that had never been witnessed before.  Despite their claims to the contrary, it seems clear the District Attorney's office wanted not only to scapegoat Abacus, hold them up as an example of what bad banks do (and jail an innocent family while letting the big banks go free), but to discredit the entire Chinese community and cast a shadow of mistrust over all of Chinatown.

The story is well told, clearly explained, and incorporates many views including jurors and independent journalists Matt Taibbi and Dave Lindorff  who reported on it while it was happening.

Weirdos

This year CFUV sponsored two VFF films: Bruce McDonald's 'Weirdos,' and 'I Called him Morgan' about renowned trumpeter Lee Morgan.  I saw the February 4th screening of Weirdos, and I'm really glad I did.

Set in black and white 1970s Nova Scotia, it's a sombre yet delightful (delightful yet sombre) look at what's it like to realize and admit you're a gay 15 year old boy with a rather lovable yet confused (confused yet lovable) mom, a potentially homophobic dad, a friend who you love who's a girl (who thinks she's your girlfriend), and an "I'll love you no matter what" grandmother. 

From a 21st century west coast fluidity-of-gender-makes-sense-perspective, it's obvious early on that Kit is gay, or at least having feelings about boys.  It's not just the Elton John poster in his bedroom, or the way he so comfortably cuddles up with the boy in the crowded back seat of the car they catch a ride in, there are hints of it throughout via the music, the clothing, the cinematography, the movement and positioning and delicate interactions. 

We're continually yet subtly (sometimes not so subtly) reminded about the general angst of teenagehood and life generally, the confusion, the uncertainty, the searching, the awkwardness.  Whether 1975 or 2017, whether you're 15 or 55, the quest for purpose, meaning, a sense of self is always a part of life's journey. 

Bruce McDonald and the team that created this delightful yet unsettling (unsettling yet delightful) movie invested considerable energy to ensure every shot, every angle, is precisely crafted.  Do yourself a favour and watch for it on Netflix, or somewhere like that.  It's worth it.