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Documentary
by Mark
Kitchell
Some call it "the D word," as in boring, hackneyed, preachy and worse.
As a poor relation to the glamorous feature film, most documentaries
languish in obscurity, lucky if they rise to the status of tiebreaker
in an Oscar betting pool. Nonetheless, documentary can be an extraordinary
art form. There's nothing quite like capturing actuality; it can be
so much richer and truer than fiction. And for the discerning devotee
of documentary, there are a great many amazing and fascinating films
to be seen. Herewith, then, a discerning guide to that obscure object
of desire.
Leni Riefenstahl filming Olympia.
What Is & What Ain't Documentary
The dividing lines are getting blurrier than ever, but, to paraphrase
Justice Potter Stewart's famous definition of pornography: you know
a real doc when you see it. Reality TV ain't it. Nor are most made-for-television
series, formulaic and neutered by the demands of the medium. Of course
there are exceptions - works of gravitas by nature of their subject
and by who made them. Certain sub-genres, like the nature documentary
or performance film, are often regarded separately - although here,
too, there are plenty of exceptions. Simply put, documentary is non-fiction
film, and generally a film about people and ideas, running toward social
analysis and independent visions. But that's too narrow a definition
of an art form that's all over the map.
Early years
Over the course of its history, the documentary has developed into
many things: explorer, reporter, propagandist, poet, advocate, observer
and iconoclast. The first -- and for some, still the greatest -- documentary
was Nanook
of the North (1922), Robert
Flaherty's look at a vanishing way of life among the Eskimos. He
went on to document other primitive peoples (see Man
of Aran) and launched the ethnographic genre - still going
strong today with films like The
Saltmen of Tibet (2001). The next great pioneer was Dziga
Vertov, who began in the Russian civil war making newsreels shown
on agit-trains. Then he turned to experimentation as a way to document
socialist reality , as can be seen in the ahead-of- their-time Kino
Eye and Three Songs of Lenin. His most enduring testament is 1929's
The Man With
The Movie Camera, a kaleidoscope of dazzling virtuosity - don't
miss it.
If the 1920s saw the first flowering of documentary's poetic possibilities,
the 1930s brought the social documentary to the fore. Film became an
instrument of struggle. One of the most amazing works of propaganda
ever made is Leni
Riefenstahl's Triumph
of the Will (1934), heralding the arrival of Hitler's Nazi Germany
at a huge rally choreographed for the camera. Debate goes on about whether
it's a great documentary or the basest of propaganda, but it still packs
a powerful (and frightening) punch. Also check out Riefenstahl's Olympia
as well as a recent documentary about her, The
Wonderful, Horrible Life of Leni Riefenstahl.
In England, a different kind of political documentary emerged. John
Grierson trained a bunch of raw recruits to make films on social issues.
"Art is a hammer, not a mirror," he said. But some brilliant work emerged,
especially Night Mail (1936), edited to a poem by Auden. Grierson
was known as "the chief"; he was an organizer of film units in England,
Canada and elsewhere, and, through protégés like Paul
Rotha, the progenitor of the socially engaged documentary. In the U.S.,
Pare Lorentz made the short documentary The Plow That Broke The Plain
(1936) and The River (both of which are on the DVD, Our Daily Bread); and a group of photographers including
Willard Van Dyke, Paul Strand and Leo Hurwitz made hard-hitting docs
about civil rights violations in the South and the Spanish Civil War.
The City, made for the 1939 New York World's Fair, is a gem.
The most celebrated man of causes was Joris
Ivens, the Dutch documentarian. From Russia, Spain and China to
Cuba and Vietnam, he made dozens of legendary films. Unfortunately,
they're so hard to find that they're likely to remain legends.
The War
World War II seems to have been made for documentary. Some may jokingly
call the History Channel the "Hitler Channel" due to the number of their
programs about the subject, but there are so many angles of the Second
World War to explore. The best archival history is the 26-epsiode British
series The
World At War, and for classic bombast you can't beat Victory
at Sea. Many of the bugle-call films made to rally support,
like the Why
We Fight series produced by Frank
Capra, now seem heavy-handed and simplistic. More nuanced and interesting
is the work of Humphrey Jennings, Listen
to Britain and other films that capture the English "we'll
be all right" spirit of endurance in the face of adversity. John
Huston's Battle of San Pietro is an unforgettable look, from
a foot soldier's perspective, of a slaughter of uncertain value. Wartime
France under Nazi control is the subject of one of the all-time great
documentaries, The
Sorrow and the Pity (1970) by Marcel
Ophuls. In brilliant interviews he cuts through the veil of myth
surrounding both the resistance and the collaboration.
And, of course, the Holocaust continues to be, and rightfully so, thoroughly
documented. Alain
Resnais' Night
and Fog (1955) is the most admired and Shoah
(1985), an epic but unforgettable series, the most monumental. Several
good recent films about the Holocaust include Into
the Arms of Strangers: Stories of the Kindertransport and The
Long Way Home, both by Mark
Jonathan Harris, both Oscar-winners.
The New Wave & Cinema Verite
In the postwar era, documentary had to reinvent itself, evolving in
many directions. One of the biggest influences was television. The networks
made important series (See It Now, hosted by Edward R. Murrow)
and exposés (Harvest Of Shame), but in the end they tamed
and institutionalized the documentary. A new wave of dissenters turned
to much more personal and engaged styles of filmmaking. In England Lindsay
Anderson and Karel
Reisz developed the cool stance of the intimate observer. In America
Richard Leacock,
D.A. Pennebaker
and the Maysles
brothers were developing what they called "actuality cinema." They
dropped the narration, lost the tripod and went mobile with light 16mm
equipment. A new trend - cinema verite (or "film truth/true film")
- swept the documentary world. This could be considered a golden age,
with highlights including: Leacock and Pennebaker's Don't
Look Back and Monterey
Pop; Robert Drew's Primary;
the Maysles brothers' Salesman,
Grey Gardens
and Gimme Shelter;
Fred Wiseman's Titicut Follies, High School and Law
and Order; Louis
Malle's Phantom India; Mike Rubbo's Sad Song of Yellow
Skin; and many more lesser known but outstanding films. A verite
hybrid film, Medium
Cool, used this documentary style to tell a fictionalized story
set around the tumultuous Democratic convention in Chicago. All of these
films sure influenced the handheld camera style we take for granted
today.
Hearts and Minds
As an era of protest grew, independent docs became increasingly political.
Some were made by old lefties like Emile De Antonio: Point of Order
(about Joe McCarthy); In the Year of the Pig (about the war in Vietnam);
and Underground (about the Weather Underground, also the subject of Sam Green's more recent film). But most of
the political polemics were made by new lefties, those who came of age
during the 1960s. Hearts
and Minds ruthlessly exposed the fallacies of the Vietnam War,
with Daniel Ellsberg talking about how we came to be the enemy. Barbara
Kopple's great Harlan County USA is a gripping look at a coal
miners' strike-turned-war. The Murder of Fred Hampton chronicles
the cold-blooded killing of a Black Panther leader by the Chicago police.
The Battle of Chile examines the overthrow of Allende by Pinochet's
military coup. El Salvador: Another Vietnam? and From the
Ashes: Nicaragua Today look at struggles in Central America. Union
Maids and Seeing Red are portraits of previous generations
of radicals. Then there's Roger
& Me, which introduced us to the phenomenal Michael
Moore and his inimitable muckraking, still going strong with Bowling
for Columbine and Fahrenheit 9/11.
Television
Television has become the source of more and more non-fiction films.
PBS was the first real home for docs in this country - from An American
Family by Allan and Susan Raymond (an intimate look at the Louds
of southern California, and perhaps the first real "reality series")
to National Geographic specials, from prominent series like Bill Moyers'
The
Power of Myth to Ken
Burns' The
Civil War. Several strands at PBS have produced outstanding
work: Nova for science; American Experience for history;
and P.O.V. for more personal visions by independent filmmakers.
HBO's America Undercover series has a predilection for the tantalizing,
sponsoring such offbeat films as Paradise Lost: the Child Murders
of Robin Hood Hills by Joe
Berlinger and Bruce Sinofsky (the sequel, Paradise
Lost 2: Revelations, is also available on DVD). The Discovery
Channel has become a major source of nature and other nonfiction programming,
often co-productions with the BBC like the stunning The
Blue Planet. By now we have entire channels dedicated to one
genre, such as history or travel. If too much of it seems rote, you
can still find an amazing variety of quirky stuff on the satellite channel
LinkTV.
Which brings us to the rest of the world. The Brits are masters of
the television documentary, from BBC warhorses like Civilization
and The Ascent of Man to Michael
Apted's long-running Up series (now in its seventh incarnation,
42 Up)
and David Attenborough's
natural history series: Life on Earth, Blue
Planet
and The Life of Mammals. There are also a lot of great docs
being made by German, French, Scandinavian, Canadian and other television
networks. Unfortunately, we rarely see these here, unless it's some
prestigious series about an American subject - such as the Japanese
network NHK's Visions
of Light, a look at Hollywood's best cinematographers.
Why so hard to find?
Perhaps we should take a moment to explain why so many documentaries
can be hard to find. Historically their market has been very limited.
Typically, an educational distributor sells or rents a small number
of copies to schools and libraries - and charges high fees to make up
for the low volume. Many docs have not been released on home video so
as not to threaten the educational market. Other docs simply can't find
a distributor willing to take on such low-volume business. Still others
run into rights problems, or are forgotten with the passage of time.
It's distressing to leave so much good work by my friends and colleagues
out of this primer, simply because they're unavailable. Now that DVD
has made it cheaper and easier to release films, it's to be hoped that
more and more docs, old and new, will be brought to the public.
Continue to Part Two...
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