If 2004 was the summer of the political documentary, with Fahrenheit 9/11 and the election season documentaries presciently defining the divisive political landscape that still consumes American society, Summer 2005 is shaping up to be just an equally compelling political season at the movies. Of course, while Michael Moore has decided to spend his time this summer setting up a film festival in Traverse City, MI as he works on his upcoming documentary about the American health care system, Hollywood's biggest films have taken on the political mantle and delivered political parables in the least likely of places. From the denouncement of absolutism craftily planted in the regrettable Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of The Sith to the excellent critique of fundamentalism of all stripes in the outstanding Batman Begins, the summer fantasy blockbuster has suddenly become the de rigueur platform for the informal political critique. But no movie this summer packs a bigger political punch than the fourth installment of George Romero's zombie series, Land of The Dead.

Not that this should come as any surprise. The history of the horror story is soaked in political metaphor, from the aristocratic cannibalism of Dracula to the dread of a communist invasion laying quite visibly on the surface of Invasion of The Body Snatchers. And why not? Political anxiety in the real world manifests itself in actual life and death circumstances; the invasion of Iraq and the fear of terror attacks in the United States have become central to the American experience in the last five years. In the 1970's, when the gore-filled slasher genre rose to prominence as the central vehicle for scaring the bejeezus out of us, filmmakers were responding to the violence of the Viet Nam era that they had witnessed every night on the television news. It should come as no surprise that George Romero would be the one to get directly to the heart of the matter (literally) and expose the externalization of American anxiety as a vicious circle of violence wrapped neatly in a bow of self-serving greed. Romero's first film in the series, the 1968 classic Night Of The Living Dead, stands as a powerfully nihilistic analysis of racial attitudes in America that, despite being trotted out on cable every Halloween, still has the power to shock with its spare, beautifully shot story of an African-American hero fighting off a zombie invasion only to survive and be gunned down by a posse that was sent to save him. The social overtones of the original remain in Land of the Dead; America is still a place haunted by the living dead, and still unable to forgo the class, race, and gender distinctions that defined it in the pre-zombie world.

This Land Is Your Land: Big Daddy (Eugene Clark) and Co. take from the rich in George A Romero's Land Of The Dead

A quick confession before attempting to talk about a recent movie-going experience; I am continually finding myself held in the thrall of the rise of modernism and the 19th Century. Whenever I find a book detailing the historical conditions that moved the world from the start of the American Civil war through the rise of modernism (which I believe reached its apotheosis with the publishing of James Joyce's Ulysses in 1922), I get swept away. There is The Metaphysical Club by Louis Menand (which I am now re-reading), Erik Larson's ghoulish The Devil In The White City, Sarah Vowell's wonderful Assassination Vacation (which I just finished), Chris Ware's astounding Jimmy Corrigan, Smartest Kid on Earth and Ben Katchor's exceptional The Jew of New York; all of these books detail a time in history when ideas had the power to change the world. There is something very familiar about this time; our country was coming to terms with a devastating war, it was expanding its empire through pre-emptive attacks on sovereign nations. But there was also so much social change by way of the power of ideas; political activism changed the nature of capitalism and art began to embrace and describe the potency of the human subjective experience. There was a gravity to life, it seems. The world of the pre-Modern and Modern era feels so vibrant, so filled with potential. By comparison, our own time feels so dumbed-down, so out of tune with its own sense of an individual's power. Subjectivity, once the great discovery of modernism, has become a dirty word associated with a lack of 'fundamental principles and values.' I take comfort in seeing the similarities with an earlier age, when individuals and ideas harbored so much possibility.

Of course, not all historical connections are quite so rosy. I couldn't help but imagine another set of historical circumstances this weekend when I took a sunny walk to BAM for the Best of The Village Voice series and a screening of the film that has changed my year; Hubert Sauper's absolutely devastating Darwin's Nightmare. Initially, my 19th century interests grabbed me when I saw this film in last year's Toronto Film Festival catalogue, but a scheduling conflict kept me out of the screening there. I remember reading the catalogue description of the film, detailing the film's examination of the impact on Lake Victoria when man introduces a predatory species of fish into the lake's eco-system. In the subsequent months, with all of the hubbub surrounding the rise of the religious right as a social class in America and the 'debate' raging over creationism and 'Intelligent Design' these days, it took just about all the self-control I had in me not to sprint to the theater on Saturday and throw myself in front of the screen. What can I say? You had me at "Darwin".

What I did not expect was the film's focus on a more powerful and brutal form of 19th and 20th century history; the survival of the colonial structure of global economics. There are not very many films that defy description, that make writing words seem superfluous and genteel in the face of their images, but Darwin's Nightmare renders all attempts at description impotent. This is what cinema was made to do; to present images so profound, experiences so full that any other medium seems useless. I can simply outline the story and my feelings about it, but in the face of what Sauper has captured on film, advocacy hardly seems enough.

'Hot town, summer in the city/ Back of my neck getting dirty and gritty' -- The Lovin' Spoonful

'Man, it smells like someone is cooking trash!'--Anonymous man next to me on the 1 Train platform.

It's nice to be back in New York City after spending an entire month on Nantucket. The island is a lovely place, but this year was abuzz with the recent New York Times article highlighting the class distinctions that exist between the insanely rich, the very rich and the simply rich. It was interesting to spend the month on the island on a small film festival salary, trying to enjoy myself but at the same time ultra-conscious of the people just like myself; the workers on the island. Nantucket is a wonderful place for me if only because I met so many kind, interesting people working at the bars, restaurants, and stores that serve the community. On an island where it is pretty much impossible to get a hamburger for less than $10, I have to admit there were moments when I had a crisis of faith as a film programmer, and they always came at the strangest of moments.

Home from Nantucket... The fest was a tremendous success and I am very proud of the work everyone did to make it so, thrilled to have met so many great people and looking forward to blogging about the festival in detail tomorrow. In the meantime, a view of Main St. in Nantucket...

Wow, I just dug through my archive, and lo and behold, today is the one year birthday of The Back Row Manifesto! 365 days ago today, the good folks at indieWIRE made the troubling, misguided decision to allow me to join their blogging community. Thanks guys!

I have really enjoyed this experience so far. It's a wonderful thing to have a place to post all of your thoughts, to be a part of a community of people writing about the things they care about the most. As the independent creative community continues to fight to express an alternative idea of what is stimulating, interesting and beautiful in the world, it is a priviledge to be able to present my thoughts, to showcase and support the things that I love, and to exchange connections and links with those who are creating a networked conversation on-line.

Thanks for all of the comments, links, and for taking the time to read this blog. I am looking forward to another year...

Here's how I'll be spending mine...

Fest starts in 5 days... Can't wait to unwind after...

We're only a week away; The Nantucket Film Festival opens next Wednesday with the North American premiere of Jim Jarmusch's Cannes Grand Prix winning Broken Flowers. I am really excited that we are able to show this film, and we owe a big Thank You to James Schamus, Ashley Stearns, Kyle Thorpe and everyone at Focus Features for their amazing generosity in sharing this film with our audience. It is the NFF's 10th anniversary, so we were looking for something very special to open the fest, and I think next Wednesday's screening of Broken Flowers will be a great event. So exciting!

Bill Murray in Jim Jarmusch's Broken Flowers

Of course, when you program a film festival, there are lots of challenges, but the most difficult is always the constant inquiry by patrons and the press as to "which films in the festival are the good ones?" I always answer the same way; If we program it, we think it is good. In fact there are very good films that we had to turn down because we only have three screens and 4 days..."

Of course, in reality, the programmer's job is more of an Animal Farm situation; All movies are equal, but some are more equal than others. There are some movies you like, and some you really love. So, while the festival program is full of exciting films, both with familiar artists and new surprises, there are always the films that are the sleepers, the true independents, without big name actors, show on a low budget, that are excellent. That is the best of what a film festival should be; an event bringing together diverse movies, domestic and foreign, fiction and non-fiction. So while I am excited to have a big movie like Broken Flowers opening this year at Nantucket, the film I am really looking forward to showing is Duplass Brother's low budget road comedy, The Puffy Chair.

In their spare time, Mark (L) and Jay Duplass enjoy sitting on floors and sharing smiles.