In solidarity with the strike by the WGA (and even though their action means my wife will be without work until the strike is resolved, a fact that we both recognize is less than desirable when pondering our rent checks in the coming months), this blog will featuring a rerun today. I encourage other bloggers to follow the lead of a vocal group of TV bloggers and participate in their own way in this action. I support the WGA and hope that they find an acceptable compromise and resolution soon.
In solidarity,
Tom
The BRM Celebrates Labor Day
(originally posted 9/1/2005)
This weekend is Labor Day weekend, and for many Americans, it is an annual ritual marking the end of the summer; a last chance to wear white, fire up the ol’ grill, spend time in the sun, watch Jerry Lewis’ annual telethon, and enjoy an extra day off from work with friends and family. But like much of American history, the origins of the holiday are generally misunderstood by the public as just another day off. Labor Day is actually the result of political action.
In 1884, a newly organized U.S. labor movement began demanding an eight-hour workday. When business and the government refused to relent, a general strike began on May 1, 1886 across the U.S. The strike was brutal, especially in Chicago, where workers faced some of the worst working conditions. On May 4, in Chicago’s Haymarket Square, workers gathered to protest the violent retaliation of police against the strikers, the police showed up again and someone threw a bomb at them, killing 8 policemen. A riot ensued, and the subsequent crackdown pressed labor’s cause forward, ultimately winning the eight-hour workday. In commemoration of the general strike and labor’s victory, nations around the world adopted May 1st as International Workers Day. Why did President Cleveland forego May 1st? Cleveland, not wanting to be seen as capitulating to labor’s victory, but hoping to avoid the conflict of not honoring American laborers, instead selected the first Monday in September, aligning the national celebration with the Knights of Labor’s annual parade in New York City. The move distanced the celebration from commemorating the general strike of 1886. And so, while the rest of the world’s workers point to the success of the American general strike of May 1, 1886 as International Worker’s Day, Americans now end their summer on what is essentially a federal holiday that has lost its meaning.
When Unions Mattered: An Old Union Rally Poster
Long time readers of The Back Row Manifesto know that I was raised in Flint, MI, which has its own http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flint_Sit-Down_Strike “>special place in U.S. Labor history. Although the city always had an annual Labor Day celebration and parade, my understanding of what Labor Day means didn’t really come until college. Since that time, and having myself been a worker in all kinds of employment situations, I have watched American labor become essentially neutered as union politics have failed miserably, corporations have effectively kept organized labor out of the workplace, and the political concerns of the working man have been co-opted by the moralizing of the right who preach the gospel of deregulation and quality of life while stripping working people of the rights that were so hard won all those years ago. Organized labor has been its own worst enemy, imposing arcane contracts and policies on companies that work in 21st century models, losing tons of local battles, fighting internal corruption, and alienating itself from the real concerns of its membership base. At the same time, as labor has stumbled, the political landscape has changed substantially, to the point where talking about worker’s concerns sounds strange; it has literally been removed from the lexicon of public discussion. Meanwhile, the only national holiday meant to celebrate American labor has become just another day in the sun.
I don’t want to get too heavy handed about the topic (this is a film blog after all), so in honor of Labor Day, The Back Row Manifesto remembers the fight for worker’s rights and the impact those changes have had on our lives with a list of Labor Day films that remind us of what this holiday is all about. Enjoy!
Strike by Sergei Eisenstein (1925)
This film, the first by Russian master Sergei Eisenstein, is the standard bearer for movies about workers and their struggle for worker’s rights. That it was made in the Soviet Union under the watchful eye of the Stalin regime only adds to its reputation as pure propaganda, but Eisenstein was known for his feuds with Stalin. The film itself details a strike at a Moscow factory, and uses an interesting blend of vaudevillian comedy, dramatic violence and Eisenstein’s revolutionary montage technique to showcase the power of the worker’s unity against the selfishness of the greedy bosses. I think the movie is also interesting in its depiction of capitalists; none of them are anything like the benign looking, well-heeled suits working at companies today. For silent films fans, regardless of your political opinions, this is a must see.
It’s On DVD, So No Excuses: Eisenstein’s Strike
Salt Of The Earth by Herbert Biberman (1954)
In his upcoming Good Night, And Good Luck, George Clooney dramatizes the battle between newsman Edward R. Murrow and Senator Joseph McCarthy, the man responsible for the communist witch hunt of the 1950’s. It looks like Clooney has adopted the Arthur Miller approach and gone after current day politicians by using a comparable historical model. Those interested in Clooney’s film should grab a copy of Salt Of The Earth, the apotheosis of the McCarthy-era blacklist film. The film is a simple melodrama about a miner’s strike, carried out by primarily Latino workers, in a New Mexico town, but the story of the film’s production is legendary. The production was relocated many times after several New Mexico towns forcefully prevented filming from taking place, acts of sabotage were committed, and the film had to be shipped out for processing in unlabelled cans in order to avoid destruction of the negative. After its completion, the film was immediately banned and almost everyone who worked on it was blacklisted from Hollywood. And they said it couldn’t happen here. Hmm.
Harlan County USA by Barbara Kopple (1976)
Of all the films on this little list, none stands shoulder to shoulder with what I consider to be one of the finest documentaries ever made, Barbara Kopple’s stunning Harlan County USA. I remember the first time I saw this movie on video as a teenager; growing up in a big union town, where it was commonplace to see and walk on a picket line, I was literally shocked to see a company employee brandish a handgun and fire at workers on strike. That act of injustice, caught on film and projected on my television screen, did as much to fuel my own sense of right and wrong as any single moment in my life. Recent films detailing the plight of foreign workers, like Life and Debt, show that violence and intimidation in the workplace are absolutely front and center in the 21st century, but like many American jobs, the conditions have been shipped overseas. Harlan County USA is a masterpiece; as dramatic as any fiction but still, all too real.
Workin’ In A Coal Mine: Harlan County USA
F.I.S.T by Norman Jewison (1978)
Sylvester Stallone, fresh on the heels of his performance as the ultimate American working class underdog Rocky Balboa, partnered with director Norman Jewison on F.I.S.T, the story of a teamster’s rise to power and eventual martyrdom. The film is actually pretty good, a sentence that is required when considering Stallone’s post-Rocky body of work. In retrospect, what is really astounding is not F.I.S.T itself, but actually watching Stallone in a movie celebrating organized labor. Someone should look at Stallone’s films and trace them against the rise of Reaganism; how could the same man who played Johnny Kovac and Rocky Balboa go on to play Marion Cobretti (which, along with Snake Pliskin in Escape From New York, is possibly my favorite character name in film) in Cobra and John Rambo in First Blood AND WRITE THE SCREENPLAYS?!?! Wow. It is a long way to the top.
Norma Rae by Martin Ritt (1979)
I am going to pitch you a storyline and you tell me if the movie would be made today: A single mother of two, working in a southern textile factory, becomes fed up with the working conditions in her plant and finds empowerment as a woman and as a leader by organizing her co-workers to join a union. Let’s get real; no one in Hollywood would dream of touching Norma Rae today, but in 1979, the film won two Oscars and made Sally Field into a star. The film is as good as it gets in Hollywood and stands as one of the best examples of the labor movement in film. I defy anyone not to get goose bumps when Norma holds up the Union sign; it is a singular moment in movies. Films like Erin Brockovich owe a big debt to Norma Rae‘s consciousness raising message, but no film since has truly captured the personal passion of the fight for unionization and worker’s rights. Who could have guessed the film would be labor’s swan song?
There Is Power In A Union: Sally Field in Norma Rae
Silkwood by Mike Nichols (1983)
We have all had bosses we’ve hated. My personal favorite was a buffoon in a toupée I worked for who, knowing nothing about the internet, decided he should be the CEO of a dot com start up. He then sabotaged meetings I held with developers by asking questions like “I have to know… Will this website work on the internet AND the information super highway?” And I admit, when you work for someone like that, there are days, several days, where the thought of a possible meeting between the boss and the front of a bus moving at 40 miles an hour might be a satisfying experience. I’m sure the feeling was mutual.
In all seriousness, one of the most moving films ever made about the violence inherent in the process of exposing corporate misdeeds is Mike Nichol’s telling of Karen Silkwood’s story. Silkwood was a real-life worker at a metallurgy plant who was purposefully exposed to radiation, began a whistle blowing campaign, and was killed (or had an accident) en route to a meeting with a New York Times writer on the verge of exposing the horrors at the Kerr-McGee plant where she worked. Meryl Streep is exceptional in the leading role, Nichols’ direction is outstanding, and the film is a powerful indictment of the lengths private industry can go to protect their interests.
Matewan by John Sayles (1987)
I love this film and rank it first among John Sayles’ work. The story of Wobbly union organizer Joe Kenehan (Chris Cooper) and his quest to organize West Virginia coal miners into the IWW union in the 1920’s. By having the audacity to organize, the workers set off a war with management. Yes, a war; men with guns trying to kill each other, often with great success. The film is an excellent period piece, capturing the challenges of organizing uneducated workers, paid with company money, living in the company town, to fight against their well-armed bosses. There is also an element of High Noon at play in the film, and the final showdown between the Pinkerton army of thugs and the union men is a shattering expose of the life and death stakes of labor organizing at the time. Outstanding.
Roger & Me by Michael Moore (1989)
Home sweet home. This film sent shockwaves through my hometown when it was released in 1989. I was still in High School, but many of the faces in the film were familiar to me and certainly the economic situation in Flint was something I knew very well; stories about General Motors and its pullout from Flint were daily news. Michael Moore was also a well known person in the community; the former publisher of the Michigan Voice had been a local raconteur for years, and many Flintstones saw Roger & Me as an extension of Moore’s muckraking journalism and an attempt to make our town look a foolish example of incompetent management, silly citizens, and bad civic ideas run amok. But guess what; Flint in the late 1980’s was all of those things. It still is. I return home several times a year and still write a film column for the local independent newspaper, but Flint is a jewel in the crown of late 20th century industrial change; the city that founded the United Auto Workers union, left in the ruins of its former glory. I give Moore kudos for exposing it.
Just Doin’ His Job: Deputy Fred Gets Ready For Another Eviction in Michael Moore’s Roger & Me
American Dream by Barbara Kopple (1991)
Barbara Kopple follows her masterpiece with a powerful example of how much things had changed in labor; the fight to unionize on display in Harlan County USA comes face to face with the impact of Reganomics at a Hormel meat plant in Minnesota in American Dream. The film is simply devastating; After turning a $30 million profit for the year, the Hormel company asked its employees to take a two dollar an hour pay cut. When the union decides to engage in a long, bitter strike to fight the pay cut, the will of the workers is sorely tested. What American Dream really represents is a shift in the landscape; by 1991, the only people who deserve to benefit from corporate profitability are shareholders and executives. The shift in value from rewarding workers for profitability into slashing the workforce and payrolls to shift value solely to investors is at the heart of the film’s dilemma, conditions that are commonplace in the labor market today. That is a short, fast and tragic road from Harlan County USA and sets the stage for the WorldComs and Enrons of the world.
Darwin’s Nightmare by Hubert Sauper (2005)
What is the old movie trailer tagline? “If you see only one documentary this year, make it Darwin’s Nightmare!” Amen to that. I have already documented my thoughts on the film, but if you want to see the front lines of 21st Century labor, look no further than the developing world. Darwin’s Nightmare has it all; the companies using natural resources to create high-value exports, taking the money out of the country and leaving the local economy in tatters. Looking back from atop America’s perch atop the economic food chain here in the late 21st century, from Eisenstein to Darwin’s Nightmare, it is impossible to describe how much the world of work, our idea of labor and its just rewards has changed and how much has stayed the same elsewhere in the world. This Labor Day, reflect for amoment and take the long view; remember why this Monday is a true national holiday.
I’m new to this liveblogging phenomenon, but from what I understand it involves posting updates to a single blog entry during an event, keeping the reader abreast of the author’s impressions as the event unfolds. So, in an effort to keep up with what the hip kids are doing nowadays ( or in a shameless batting of the eyelashes at The Reeler ), I thought I would unwind from an arduously intense day by liveblogging a DVD. After all, now that Wellspring is gone and everyone seems to agree that this is the future of foreign film distribution, I better start to think of seeing films like this in my bedroom, laptop in hand, as an event! Buy your stocks now, people!
Tonight, I’ll be drawing from the top of the ol’ Netflix pile; Chantal Ackerman’s La Captive. Let’s hit the play button and begin, shall we? Oh, and duh: SPOILERS!
A Scene from Chantal Ackerman’s La Captive, or so I believe, as I haven’t watched it yet
9:58pm: Hit ‘Play’... the sound of waves crashing on a beach, the opening credits roll. Sylvie Testud! I just saw Fear and Trembling recently on another rental, and I loved it. Excited already. I should also mention, as the credits end and the scenes of 8mm film of impossibly beautiful girls on the beach rolls along, that this film is loosely based on a story by Marcel Proust. I am also a fan of Time Regained by Raul Ruiz, but I never found the right sherpa to guide me up the intellectual Everest of Remembrance of Things Past. One day.
10:05pm: I like this already. Beautiful tracking shots through the streets and alleyways of Paris. I have not seen a lot of Chantal Ackerman’s films, only recently having watched Tomorrow We Move (Sylvie Testud again…), but she clearly has a beautifully formal style. Serious stalker vibe going on, though. Oooh, title card! Trés literary!
10:13pm: Dunno how many of you have seen Chabrol’s recent film The Bridesmaid, but I am getting some serious tonal echoes. Sculpture, obsession, self-recognition. Ackerman knows how to move a camera. One of the things I noticed in so many of the submissions to the film festival, and in most of the American films at Sundance, is the lack of meaningful camera movement. Then, a perfect counterpoint: the still I pasted above is slowly materialzing before my eyes as Ackerman, with aching patience, holds the camera perfectly still as the couple in the frame discuss the smell of sex. A quick pan up, glass between the lovers, a barricade to true intimacy.
10:24pm: Let’s talk about music for a second. I love classical music of all stripes. In this scene between Simon (Stanislas Merhar) and Ariane (Ms. Testud), the couple lie in bed talking about the mundane aspects of everyday life, and their unity is underscored by a lovely piece of violin music. The minute Ariane is asleep, off goes the music of romance, back into a cold, silent sense of possession.
10:37pm: Ariane sings the musical theme, off camera. I think I heard her call out the name of her girlfriend, Andreé, during a love scene. And now, a possible singing lesson. I know why the caged bird sings! (sorry, I had to).
10:38pm: Ariane and her girlfriend Andreé pick up the tune as a duet and exit. Lovely device. The moment the door closes, Simon and the camera start prowling. He would easily have fit in a Patricia Highsmith or Oscar Wilde novel. Empty, privileged observer. Who is La Captive? Simon in his emptiness, or Ariane in the bonds of Simon’s controlling obsession?
10:43pm: Simon picks up his own musical theme. Think Stalker meets Hitchcock. Again, prowling the alleyways of Paris, this time at night. A pure noir moment from Ackerman here.
10:50pm: Music again, this time a reference to a modern adaptation of Carmen. This isn’t going to end well.
10:54pm: There is a perfectly represented sense of male sexual anxiety boiling under the surface here; the threat of homosexual betrayal by a female lover. Ackerman has it right; desire and suspicion.
11:04pm: Oops! Got wrapped up in the film; the long take in the backseat of the car, the night passing through the boughs of the trees. And now a balcony scene where Ariane and an unknown woman duet an Italian opera. Female connection, both behind bars. Simon: “I’m burning to know what goes on between women that doesn’t go on between a woman and a man…”
11:12pm: We’re moving into Eyes Wide Shut land; an inteview with a lesbian couple, a street of prostitutes. Ah, but Simon’s impotence, his “allergy”, takes us back to a constant rhyme in the film: Ariane asleep, Simon violating her, this time emotionally.
11:13pm: ... and now, for the third time, he attempts to make love to her while she sleeps. I smell couples counseling.
11:20pm: Now, even I am getting sexually frustrated. I like how Ackerman has updated the old idea of denied sexual gratification by finding it in sexual and emotional impotence. That said, not easy to empathize with a character this closed off. Nice Freudian moment here with Simon seeking the affection of his grandmother before heading back to Ariane’s room. He’s got it bad.
11:27pm: Weird realization… 98 minutes into a French film, and no one has smoked. ??
11:39pm: Blogging is becoming much harder… the film’s central relationship is intensifying and on a rollercoaster of emotion. Again, Ackerman’s tone is all her own. And I love these Bressonian frames; empty, awaiting the arrival of the impending action. A trip to the country by car recalling Louis Malle (for me anyway) and now a sea-side estate with huge, empty rooms that brings to mind the aforementioned Ruiz adaptation of Proust, Woody Allen’s Interiors and the opening credits of the film.
11:49pm: The music swells, a long shot of a small motor boat at sea, slowly approaching the shore. Simon is alone, Ariane lost. Silence for a brief moment, and the promise to be apart forever, tragically kept. What a climax… credits rolling….
All in all, amazing movie. Just what I needed.
Well. That was fun. I am not sure what kind of nerd I must be to have just done this. Then again, you read to the end. Bonne Nuit!
Unbelievably, I just opened my first Netflix account a couple of weeks ago. I am a habitual collector (its genetic… my dad is a huge collector as well and my mom will not throw anything away), so in the past I have purchased most of the DVD’s I want to see. I am not a huge DVD watcher; I usually prefer to go to the movie theater, and when I do have time to watch a DVD, it tends to be a film submission or another film for the festival I am currently working on. But when I do get time to sit on my butt and watch a DVD for pleasure, I really target films that I want to see desperately, so I have traditionally bought them in order to be able to watch on my own time. There is functionality inherent in my old system, and a financial commitment beyond my modest means of late, but Netflix has made that system unnecessary.
OK, I understand that most of you probably discovered this whole thing years ago, but I love my Netflix now. I have only been able to get through 3 films in two weeks, but so far, the account is working just as I had hoped: a pressure-free, pleasurable stroll through my cinematic wish list. So, I thought I would document that trip this year on my blog.
A journey of 365 days begins with a single rental…
1. The River Directed by Jean Renoir
He is one of my favorite directors, and his famous humanism shines in abundance in this gorgeously restored Technicolor disc, my first Netflix movie! The most startling thing is the quotidian detail that Renoir is able to capture in color. Martin Scorsese, in the bonus materials, says it spot-on: At the time, most films shot in India were full of tiger hunts and elephants and pith helmets—Kipling-esque stories of adventures among “the other.” Renoir rejects all of the obvious stereotypes and shows the beauty of Indian culture as experienced through the eyes of a young English girl. The color on the disc absolutely pops, and it makes me wish that somehow, someway, someone will make another Technicolor movie. There is so much to be done with color and composition in movies, so much to say. The buzz over Sin City highlights people’s interest in visual mastery. But I’ll take Renoir’s love of people’s everyday lives anyday.
2. Fucking Ämäl Directed by Lukas Moodyson
A prep for my double feature of at the Walter Reade of Moodyson’s AMAZING Lilja 4-Ever and a second screening of the very difficult A Hole In My Heart, I took in Fucking Ämäl on the ol’ DVD player. I had never seen it, and it is much closer to Tilsamans (Together) in its optimistic tone and hopeful approach to the lives of young girls trying to learn about love. The contrast between the first two films and the second two are startling, but Moodyson, having watched three of his films in two days, seems to me to have inherited Renoir’s deep love of people and their wondrous interactions. The main difference between them is that Moodyson, after an optimistic start, seems to have lost faith in society. It was nice to see the hope in the eyes of the girls at the end of Fucking Ämäl, to believe in the possibility of love. More on Lilja 4-EVER (probably in the form of a letter begging Newmarket to get this film on DVD as soon as is humanly possible) very soon.
3. Tout Va Bien Directed by Jean-Luc Godard
Speaking of the use of color, Godard’s exercise in labor union consciousness-raising, Tout Va Bien is an utterly gorgeous and ultimately tedious exploration of radical labor politics in the 1970’s. I don’t have much to say about it, other than I think Godard’s application of his considerable artistry is wasted on this film’s straw man story (see Laurent Cantet’s Human Resources for a much finer example of how to make a film about this topic.) I simply think his downhill slide into the murky (and not so dramatic) waters of Marxist politics took away one of the most important features of his filmmaking; his love of character and genre. His films continue to get more and more cinematic, but his love of characters becomes a political chess game; everyone is a symbol. Watching this disc, I missed the passion of his earlier characters, especially those in his recent http://blogs.indiewire.com/twhalliii/archives/002841.html “>Masculine Feminine. Nothing more boring than a revolutionary in a bathrobe (watch the DVD extras to see what I mean).
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