I Am Not Your Negro: stepping back in the wrong direction with a narrow focus on black-white relations

Raoul Peck, “I Am Not Your Negro” (2017)

Initially an expose of the modern history of the United States as seen from the viewpoint of black US author and activist James Baldwin (1924 – 1987) and serving as a personal memoir of his early experiences and meetings with black activist leaders Martin Luther King, Malcolm X and Medgar Evers, this film becomes an exploration and critique of American culture and values generally. Director Raoul Peck based the film on Baldwin’s unfinished work “Remember This House” and extends the work to the present day to demonstrate that the pervasive racial discrimination of white people against black people back in Baldwin’s time continues – as does also black people’s resistance against that discrimination, as exemplified by (in Peck’s view) the Black Lives Matter movement.

With voiceover narration from actor Samuel L Jackson, who reads from Baldwin’s work, the film moves back and forth in time, which can make following it hard, but there is a general chronological order and structure shaped around Evers, Malcolm X and King. Baldwin remembers early childhood experiences of watching Hollywood Western films and identifying with the “good guy” cowboys, not realising that the Injuns being shot could just as easily have been replaced by upstart black people. He later comes to see how much Hollywood brainwashes people to see the world in terms of, well, black and white, and how Hollywood films serve to inculcate a particular paradigm of how the world supposedly operates. There is nothing in the film though how that paradigm influences not just black people like himself to accept their place in US society but also brainwashes white people to believe they are special and to believe in violence as the only acceptable tool to confront and solve problems.

With archival film footage, the film shows Baldwin advocating on behalf of black people in talk shows, arguing why racism continues in spite of the apparent social and economic progress black people were making in the 1960s. Malcolm X and Martin Luther King loom large as two leaders whose opinions and leadership styles were as polarised as could be, to the extent of Malcolm X accusing King of being an Uncle Tom for adopting a non-violent approach emphasising love and compassion.

Where the film really could have taken off and become something very special is in moments where Baldwin criticises American society generally for its materialism and consumerism which cover over its soullessness and an unwillingness to confront and own up to the brutality and psychological violence meted out to black people over 200 years of its history. There could have been an exploration of how the US controls its people through a mix of both hard power (such as genocide, the use of police and discriminatory laws to keep minority groups in positions of inferiority) and soft power (through culture and education) which also serve to divide and rule people on the basis of race, ethnicity, religion and other categories; but perhaps this was going too far for Peck who keeps the discussion within a narrow framework of whites-versus-blacks.

Unfortunately from this film, excellent in parts though it might be for showing rare archived film footage about the black American struggle for social, political and economic equality, and for detailing how Hollywood reflected and upheld racial inequality, I get no indication that either Baldwin or Peck sees beyond the white-black racial divide to realise that both white and black people – and plenty of other groups in US society – are being crushed alike by capitalist ideology and the systems and institutions that support it. Discrimination on the basis of race among other artificial categories is just one method of keeping people weak and divided – and set against each other – so that the elites who control them can continue to exploit them.

At a time when both white and black people, and others as well, most need to unite and recognise their common oppressors, “I Am Not Your Negro”, by allying itself to the Black Lives Matter movement – known to be infiltrated by US billionaire George Soros’s Open Society Foundation – is actually a step backwards in the wrong direction.

 

On Body and Soul: a quiet and quirky character study / romance drama founders on a thin and manipulative plot

Ildiko Endelyi, “On Body and Soul / Teströl és lélekröl ” (2017)

A quirky romance drama on the universal human desire for connection with others, and the struggles that must be overcome due to the interplay of individual disadvantages and the realities of everyday life in a machine-like society, this film starts with much creative potential, two unusual main characters and beautiful cinematography but founders on an insubstantial story that borders on being manipulative and creepiness. Much of the film is a character study revolving around two people who are socially isolated and/or crippled in their communication. Endre (Geza Morcsanyi) is chief financial officer and Maria (Alexandra Borbely) a newly appointed quality inspector at an abattoir when a theft occurs and the incident is reported to police. The police recommend that the staff be psychologically evaluated in order to find the culprit and a psychologist is hired to question everyone and create personality profiles for all employees. She discovers that Endre and Maria have been having the same dream every night – the two have been dreaming about two deer (a stag and a doe) sharing the same small territory around a pond during winter – and suspects them of playing a joke on her.

The psychologist’s suspicions bring Endre and Maria together and the two begin to develop a relationship. However the psychological baggage each brings to the friendship – while highly intelligent and imaginative, Maria appears to have Asperger’s syndrome, and Endre himself has been through various failed relationships with women that have left him alone and cynical, and his crippled left arm is something of an embarrassment – drives them apart with almost devastating results. Endre is not sure if he really loves Maria and Maria, endeavouring to learn what love and physical contact are, is on the verge of committing suicide when Endre rejects her.

The graceful, poetic scenes of the two deer meeting and touching each other’s nose and close-ups of often gory slaughterhouse scenes balance one another and drive home the contrast between what two isolated individuals aspire to and the reality in which they are forced to live, where they may be socially rejected, bullied or forced to tolerate other people’s gossip, infidelities and cynicism about human relationships. There may be a subtle comment on how humans are trapped within a brutal, repetitive, machine-like society (epitomised by the daily routine of the abattoir) where gentle creatures closely related to the deer are slaughtered and cut into pieces: in such a society, is it not natural that only those who are autistic, like Maria with her infallible memory and extreme exactitude, can function so well? Only when humans reconnect with their souls’ desires as expressed in their dreams can they overcome the limitations that their machine worlds place on them and join with one another at last.

The plot is very thin and moves slowly and repetitively towards a predictable if forced climax in which Endre and Maria finally come together emotionally and physically, and their shared dream, in which the two deer (representing their souls and aspirations) finally disappear and winter (representing their obstacles) begins to thaw, can fade away. Endre and Maria’s behaviour towards each other near the end strikes this viewer as out of character (for Maria anyway) and not a little manipulative of audience sympathies. The suicide attempt brings unwanted forced drama; there is no need for Maria to physically emulate Endre in having a crippled left arm. A sub-plot involving a newly hired butcher Sanyi (Ervin Nagy), who may represent a threat to Maria, dissipates very quickly and a running gag about Endre’s fellow manager Jeno (Zoltan Schneider) and his relationship with an unfaithful wife goes nowhere.

The acting is good and restrained, and the domestic settings of the main characters (which reflect their characters) are tasteful and well done. The film does seem very insular and hermetic with its narrow focus on the two characters. Director Endelyi seems uninterested in portraying a wider view of Hungarian society and how the public might view abattoirs and the people who work in them. In a film where metaphors about how dreams might reflect aspects of reality and can be used to influence reality are already quite overburdened, the metaphor of the abattoir as representing society in miniature, and how public opinion of abattoir and abattoir workers might be reflected in the workers’ attitudes toward Maria, would have been no extra baggage.

This jet fighter is a disaster … So why does US Congress keep paying for it? Military expenditure linked to lobbying politicians and creating jobs

Sam Ellis, “This jet fighter is a disaster, but Congress keeps buying it” (Vox channel, 26 January 2017)

Google the term “F-35” and among the suggestions the search engine offers you are terms like “problems” and “flying turkeys” which indicate the breadth and depth of the issue of technical and other defects surrounding the Lockheed Martin F-35 Lightning II multi-role stealth fighter jet. The most expensive military weapons system in history and surely one of the longest, having started development in 1992, the F-35 fighter jet has been plagued with numerous problems, not only technical problems, but problems with its design, production, testing and pilot training among others. Yet the US government continues to throw money at it, even though hundreds of billions have already been sunk into the project, with no clear

This video goes some way to explaining how the F-35 fighter jet’s development is as much an ongoing political and economic project as it is a military project. Private defence companies depend on the US government as virtually their sole client and hence compete hard for military defence contracts. To ensure support for their projects, they lobby and buy the support of Congress representatives at both House of Representatives and Senate levels. Companies establish plants in as many states as they can so they can lobby as many politicians as they can to push their case for winning contracts. Bought politicians will support those defence companies that will bring jobs to their states. The example of Lockheed Martin in buying Sikorski Technologies in Connecticut, so as to curry favour with politicians representing that state in Congress and beat Boeing in gaining the contract to build what became the F-35 fighter jet, is cited.

Several of the technical problems that the F-35 fighter jet is notorious for stem from the design and production process itself. Normally new products are researched, designed and tested for defects before mass production begins; with the F-35, production begins about the same time that testing is done. The problem with this approach is that jets already manufactured must be returned to the production to be retrofitted with amended parts if flaws are discovered during testing.

The election of Donald Trump as President in 2016 threw a spanner – pun intended – into the works of the F-35 fighter jet production when he threatened to cancel the US government order and ask Boeing to price a jet comparable to and competitive with the F-35. Trump’s decision highlighted the issues with the F-35 and also threatened the delicate network of connections among the US government, defence companies and jobs in nearly all 50 states. Since defence companies not only provide direct employment to people in those states but also work to other businesses through contracts for raw materials, parts and administration, and thus indirect work to those companies’ employees, Trump’s decision has the potential to derail individual state economies, especially those state economies highly dependent on government military contracts.

While very dense with information, at just over seven minutes the video is necessarily an introduction into some of the economics and politics behind the F-35 stealth fighter jet program. Good use of animation, charts and lively graphics explains the close connections between US politicians and defense corporations. The video does not go into any detail as to why a multi-role stealth fighter jet is needed to replace other jets used by the US Army, Navy and Air Force when perhaps a range of more specialised and less expensive fighter jets might be more appropriate to American defence needs. Nothing is said either about a culture in the Pentagon and US armed forces that favours F-35 fighter jets and using huge aircraft carriers to project US power around the world at a time when military technology and tactics have changed or advanced to a point where air forces may no longer be needed for land wars (because the majority of land wars being fought these days are being fought guerrlla-style) and where aircraft carriers and their flotillas become sitting ducks for electronic shutdown and thus targets for missile attacks.

Viewers may need to see the video a few times to absorb the information which comes at quite a fast pace. The presentation may be a bit too sharp and snappy for some but on the whole the video is a good and often shocking exposure of how much US politics and economy depend on pursuing a project vacuuming up billions of dollars with not much to show, at the cost of burdening American taxpayers with tremendous debt obligations that they eventually must pay.

The Corbett Report (Episode 33: Meet Edward Bernays, Master of Propaganda): still retaining the power to shock with minimalist presentation

James Corbett, “The Corbett Report (Episode 33: Meet Edward Bernays, Master of Propaganda)” (February 2008)

It might be a bit dated, what with social media platforms like Facebook now dominating people’s time (and perhaps moulding their thoughts, opinions and behaviours), and selling their personal details to corporate advertising sponsors and election campaign staff, but this episode of “The Corbett Report” on Edward Bernays and the poisonous legacy he left still has the power to shock viewers. Bernays is famous as the founder of public relations and modern methods of propaganda, based on discovering what motivates people and what they fear and desire, and using those fears and desires to manipulate people’s thoughts, views and behaviours, all to achieve certain ends. These methods are based on the assumption, derived from psychoanalytic theory (founded by Austrian psychoanalyst Sigmund Freud, the uncle of Edward Bernays), that human beings are essential irrational creatures ruled by fears, feelings and instincts they are unaware of or which they cannot articulate in words.

Using various sources, of which the most prominent are two documentaries, Alix Spiegel’s “Freud’s Nephew and the Origins of Public Relations”, made for National Public Radio in 2005, and Adam Curtis’s “The Century of the Self”, made for the British Broadcasting Corporation in 2002, James Corbett demonstrates how Bernays was able to change public perceptions and behaviour, usually to the detriment of people’s long-term health and security, for the benefit of his private corporate clients – and ultimately himself, since he would have reaped quite an income along with a reputation for dramatic results which would have brought him more clients. The examples used are superb if gob-smacking: Bernays was able to change the US public’s perception of what a hearty, home-cooked breakfast should involve (bacon and eggs) for his client who wanted to increase its bacon sales; he created a strategy to promote cigarette smoking among women, which involved hiring a group of young women posing as feminists and suffragettes to light up cigarettes during an Easter Day parade in New York City, for his client The American Tobacco Company; and he orchestrated a media campaign using the American Dental Association promoting the fluoridation of public water supplies so that the Aluminum Company of America and other special interest lobbyists could legally dump aluminium fluoride waste into water repositories. Through such campaigns, Bernays and his clients may have contributed considerably to harming the long-term health of generations of Americans and others abroad. Furthermore, this harm may have also had an impact on Western societies and cultures as there are studies suggesting that fluoridation of water can damage children’s neurological development. Corbett mentions that Nazi German concentration camps and Soviet gulags put sodium fluoride into their water supplies to induce passive behaviour in prisoners; whether this is true, I do not know as considerable controversy still surrounds this matter.

The most worrying aspect of Bernays’s career as a spin doctor is the work he did for the US government and the CIA in convincing the US public in the 1950s that the somewhat social-democratic Arbenz government of the small Central American nation Guatemala was Communist and therefore a major threat to American security. The success of Bernays’s campaigns led to US public support for the eventual overthrow of the government and its replacement by an authoritarian military government. The ultimate beneficiary of this destabilisation of an entire country (which entrenched it further in a culture of political instability, poverty and violence) was the American corporation The United Fruit Company which resented the nationalisation of several of its properties by the Arbenz government.

Bernays’s influence spread far outside American public relations and political propaganda: his book “Propaganda”, published in 1927, his ideas and campaigns were studied by the Nazi German and Soviet governments who put their new-found knowledge to use in their own public propaganda campaigns. That Bernays was surprised that enemies of the US were using his book and propaganda methods to promote their ideologies and change their populations suggests a lack of insight and reflection on his part. Certainly such news did not stop him from eagerly offering his services (for money of course) to the US government and its agencies to get rid of governments that encroached on the interests of US private corporations. Eventually Bernays seems to have become cynical about human nature as suggested by his daughter Ann in the episode’s last scene; but the quality of thinking, believing and acting by the American public as it developed during the 20th century generally must be seen as a reflection of the predatory and anti-intellectual capitalist society that helped to shape it, and in this Bernays must bear a great deal of the blame for his role in demonstrating the potential of propaganda campaigns in manipulating human emotions, fears and instincts for short-term profit.

The episode is easy to follow but listeners may have to hear it a few times to absorb the information – the presentation is very dense and far-ranging. It ends with recent examples of US propaganda aimed at deceiving the public into believing outright lies about US government policies and actions. A situation has now developed in which the American public has become increasingly estranged from the US government and the elites who dominate it and determine its policies: this strained relationship extends also to the mainstream news media industry which peddles lies and stereotypes, and manufactures or misrepresents propaganda stunts designed and timed to sway public opinion to favour US government actions that promote the interests of global finance, the arms industry and giant energy and other corporations. Were Sigmund Freud alive today, he would be horrified at how his psychoanalytic theories have been used and abused to bring about a dysfunctional world.

“Batman (Season 2, Episodes 51 / 52: A Piece of the Action / Batman’s Satisfaction)”: two sets of heroes wasted in a mundane plot with a mundane villain

Oscar Rudolph, “Batman (Season 2, Episodes 51 / 52: A Piece of the Action / Batman’s Satisfaction)” (1967)

Even for the lightweight situation comedy / family show that was “Batman” in the 1960s, these two episodes could have been beefed up a little more with a better villain and a more malevolent support team of murderous myrmidons that would justify having special guest crime-fighters The Green Hornet and his trusty sidekick Kato. In these episodes, The Green Hornet (Van Williams) and Kato (Bruce Lee) come to Gotham City to bust a stamp-counterfeiting scheme run by the cunning Colonel Gumm (Roger C Carmel), a man of many disguises from Argentine to Russian. Local Gotham City masked heroes Batman (Adam West) and Robin (Burt Ward) are also aware of this scheme but believe that The Green Hornet and Kato are part of it. Gumm also happens to be the foreman of the Pink Chip Stamp Factory owned by Pinky Pinkston (Diane McBain) who inherited it and a valuable stamp collection from her late grandfather Pincus Pinkston. Pinky herself also has two prospective suitors for her hand: billionaire Bruce Wayne and rich newspaper publisher Britt Reid, both of whom are none other than Batman and The Green Hornet themselves!

Dual identities (and responsibilities!), duplicity, deception and mirror-image rivalry (of a friendly sort) constitute the underlying theme of these episodes as Bruce Wayne and Britt Reid both admit to having been rivals since boyhood in many ways. In the second episode they also have a very brief discussion together about whether they would trade their mundane everyday lives for the more exciting life of fighting crime with masked identities and Reid – a little too quickly perhaps! – exclaims he’d like to stay just as he is! To Wayne, that means he’d rather stay a humdrum publisher – but viewers know exactly what Reid is referring to! The theme of polarised duality is carried over into the show’s sets of deep over-the-top pink hues in the factory, the workers’ uniforms and Pinky’s wardrobe and accessories (including her dog Apricot!), contrasting with more sober greens and greys in other scenes.

The tone of the episode ranges from light-hearted and comic to the frankly silly, especially in scenes where McBain appears with her bouffant pink wig and her Maltese terrier; and where Wayne must disappear every time Commissioner Gordon (Alan Hamilton) or Pinky needs to phone Batman. Yet no-one ever asks Wayne why he can’t be in the same room as Batman (even if the latter is just on the phone). Needless to say, no-one ever realises that Wayne and Batman speak in similar voices and use similar vocabulary and aphorisms.

The mundane plot in which Gumm abuses his employer’s trust and reputation by making fake stamps runs through the usual formulaic structure that  always features a death-trap cliff-hanger in which the Dynamic Duo’s lives are threatened in the most improbable way: on this occasion, they face being turned into Flat-man and Ribbon on life-sized stamps. As usual, Batman and Robin save themselves in the nick of time but in trying to accost The Green Hornet and Kato, allow the real crooks to get away. In the second episode, Batman and Robin must scale a building to reach a stamp exhibition and this part of the plot sets up yet another mini-episode in an ongoing gag in which the two converse with a resident (usually played by a famous actor) in the building who opens a window to see who is outside. The resident is played by then well-known Hollywood actor Edward G Robinson who talks about his (real-life) passion for art and his dislike of “pop art” artist celebrity Andy Warhol.

The acting may not be great but at least it’s adequate enough for the plot to sail through smoothly. Williams does not impress much as The Green Hornet / Britt Reid and his character seems very one-dimensional. The fight sequence – there’s always a fight sequence! – looks better than fight sequences usually do in “Batman” episodes, thanks to well choreographed scenes, collapsing tables and Bruce Lee’s restrained kung fu sparring with Robin and a few of Colonel Gumm’s henchmen. Young viewers will probably wish Lee had been allowed to clean up Gumm’s minions by himself while Robin goes after Gumm and Batman and The Green Hornet argue over who will free Pinky from Gumm.

This little adventure could have been much improved had it been extended to three episodes and featured either a more outrageous villain – Burgess Meredith’s Penguin would have been ideal – or two villains, in a plot with twists and turns that would have given Williams and Lee more to do. Another fight scene featuring Lee taking on an entire army of bad guys would have been welcome! As it is, this crime caper remains more notable for its cast and crossover of two heroes from another TV series than for its story. While there is occasional with, there is also much less of the satire and black humour that were hallmarks of the television series.

The Corbett Report (Episode 332: The Weaponisation of Social Media): a brisk survey of government online propaganda methods

James Corbett, “The Corbett Report (Episode 332 The Weaponisation of Social Media)” (April 2018)

A brisk, and at times even brusque, survey of how governments, the military and intelligence agencies use and exploit social media platforms to influence and change public opinion and to spread disinformation and propaganda, this episode of “The Corbett Report” might need a few viewings for its message to burrow into your brain. Part of the reason is that this 15-minute video breezes across a range of methods and subterfuges the US government and its agencies resort to, to insinuate themselves into social media conversations and discussions through sockpuppets, false online identities, trolling practices and astroturfing campaigns; but the video does not dwell very long on one of these deceptive techniques before flying onto another. For people who have never considered that their governments would deliberately try to manipulate their thinking and behaviour to deceive them and to direct them into agreeing with their rulers’ agenda or to do things they would otherwise never consider or refuse to do, such information will come as a huge shock.

For all that though, and despite its far-ranging reach that includes an interview with US law professor Cass Sunstein, who also served as a public official under US President Barack Obama from 2009 to 2012, the video is surprisingly tepid on what individuals can do to recognise manipulation when they experience it online, how to deal with trolls and sockpuppets, and how to lessen their exposure to manipulation in future, not to mention how people can come together to confront government deception and propaganda. The video also does not propose non-profit social media alternatives to Facebook and similar platforms that could be used by children, teenagers and others who find Facebook’s business model repellent.

While the video is very well presented and its pace is smooth if urgent, I couldn’t help but think the film could have been much more effective if it had spent more time on each subterfuge that the US, the UK and Israel engage in (including selective editing of articles on Wikipedia) and where possible show a few examples of each, explore the history behind it and reveal also the consequences where these occurred. Perhaps at a later time, “The Corbett Report” could revisit this topic in greater depth.

Loveless: a character study and thriller that criticises Russian society as stagnant, self-absorbed and materialist

Andrei Zvyagintsev, “Loveless” (2017)

As with previous films of Andrei Zvyagintsev that I’ve seen, “Loveless” is as much a criticism of modern Russian society and what it values as it is of the individuals who pursue hedonistic and materialist goals to the exclusion of all else. The film opens with a Moscow couple, Boris (Alexei Rozin) and Zhenya (Maryana Spivak), in the middle of divorce proceedings trying to sell their apartment to interested buyers and ignoring their only son Alexei (Matvey Novikov) who suffers in silence at his parents’ bickering. After the potential buyers leave, wanting more time to think the potential purchase over, Boris and Zhenya get stuck into tearing strips off each other while Alexei hides and cries in distress. Over the next day or so, Boris and Zhenya ignore each other by burying themselves in work during the day – and Boris worrying that his conservative Orthodox Christian bosses will turf him out if they discover that his marriage has broken up – and partying with new lovers in the evening. Eventually the couple notice that Alexei has gone missing and call the police. The police are tied up with various other cases of missing persons and refer Boris and Zhenya to a group of volunteers who help them search for Alexei.

The characters are very one-dimensional – Zhenya is a screechy, self-absorbed harpy while Boris is passive and hardly says anything much to defend himself – and everything in the film  from the cinematography and the plot to the visual narrative of various buildings (progressing from comfortable and modern to derelict and decrepit) is overloaded with symbolism and meaning, ultimately referring us to the same banal message that Zvyagintsev’s films usually broadcast: that Russia is a stagnant society given to hysteria and emotion, and Russians are a people who never learn from their mistakes. Working class people in particular come in for heavy condemnation but most significant characters in this film are obsessed with being on the make, acquiring wealth and luxury with the least amount of effort, using other people and checking social media constantly. Dysfunctional family relationships and conservative Christianity come in for heavy criticism, as though these exemplify and underline darker aspects of modern Russian culture and society.

The film’s attempt to create a parallel between Boris and Zhenya’s deteriorating relationship on the one hand and on the other hand their later relationships and even the separation of Russia and Ukraine and the resulting war in the Donbass region of eastern Ukraine is clumsy and contrived. Sex scenes are far too long and do not add anything significant about the characters who engage in them. While the cinematography can be good, even beautiful (as at the beginning and the end of the film), it dwells a great deal on the bleakness of Moscow winters as a metaphor for the bleakness and apparent apathy of modern Russian life.

Ultimately the film itself takes on a hermetic and self-obsessed bent as it trudges on to a devastating climax, at which (implausibly) Zhenya still rejects Boris as he tries to comfort her. The two later go their separate ways and resume their old habits – and psychological isolation – in new surrounds with new partners. At times the action and plot narrative in the film come across as unrealistic. Zvyagintsev seems intent to keep his characters as undeveloped as can be to bang home his criticism, however deserved or undeserved, of Russia.

I can see that future films of Zvyagintsev are going to be as stagnant and unchanging in the cheap pot-shots they take at ordinary people, as the society he believes Russia to be. Unfortunately those social and other structural problems of Russian society that Zvyagintsev takes to be symptomatic of the worst aspects of Vladimir Putin’s governance and the society that has developed under his leadership – the indifference of the police towards two parents who have lost a child, the alienation of individuals within families, family conflicts that pass from one generation to the next, the insidious influence of conservative religion through elites – are readily recognised by Western audiences as also typical of their societies: these problems are ones produced by capitalist societies.

The Jimmy Dore Show: Interview with Carla Ortiz (23 April 2018) – exposing the reality behind the Syrian White Helmets

The Jimmy Dore Show: Interview with Carla Ortiz (23 April, 2018)

A most unexpected surprise from what I would have considered the least likely medium surfaced recently: US stand-up comedian (and political commentator) Jimmy Dore featured Bolivian actress Carla Ortiz on his weekly one-hour radio / online show. Ortiz recently returned from a trip to Syria – her second trip I think, although I’m not really sure – during which she visited Aleppo and among other things saw for herself the headquarters of the fake humanitarian first-response group the Syrian White Helmets … which happened to be located a couple of metres away from the headquarters of Al Nusra (the Syrian branch of Al Qaeda). The actress also spoke to several people who had done volunteer work for the White Helmets – which mostly involved acting in the group’s propaganda films – and filmed scenes in sections of Aleppo that had just been liberated from terrorists by the Syrian Arab Army.

I missed seeing the first 20 minutes of the interview but what I did see and hear was in turns astounding, horrifying, depressing and uplifting. One astounding fact was that while volunteers working for the Syrian Arab Army would be paid the Syrian equivalent of US$50 a month for 16 to 18 hours of work, volunteers for the White Helmets could expect to receive a hefty US$1,500 a month. The temptation for Syrian civilians in areas captured by terrorists to work for the White Helmets – especially as the terrorists deliberately withheld food from civilian hostages unless they were prepared to pay hugely inflated prices – must have been immense. Ortiz and Dore do not discuss where the money would have come from to pay White Helmets volunteers but one suspects the most likely sources of funding are donations from Western governments and money from Sunni-dominated oil kingdoms on the Arabian Peninsula.

In her film, in which she enters the White Helmets headquarters, Ortiz points out two Al Nusra flags and states that they could not have been placed there accidentally, as very few Syrian citizens support Al Nusra and most such citizens hate the group. Ortiz notes that nearly all terrorists operating in Syria are from overseas. She reels off a list of actions of the terrorists that demonstrate their callous brutality: they keep civilians in cages and use them as human shields, and commandeer schools and hospitals, thus stunting children’s education and preventing families from obtaining medical help and medicines. People are deliberately starved as well and children die from malnutrition and diseases that could have been treated.

At least twice in the interview, Jimmy Dore mentions the CIA as paymaster for the terrorists to overthrow Assad but the reality may be more complicated than that: several Western governments want Assad gone and each would be using several agencies, including intel agencies, charities and news media outlets, to channel money and weapons to the terrorists, train them and promote them in the guise of humanitarian aid groups and organisations such as the White Helmets and Violet Organisation Syria.

However horrifying the war has been in Syria and especially in Aleppo, Ortiz speaks highly of the Syrian people: she notes that Syrian society has made great advances in giving women leadership roles in politics (the current Syrian vice-president is female and 30% of the country’s ministries are headed by women) and society generally. Since Aleppo’s liberation in 2016, 800,000 refugees have returned to the city and people are busy in rebuilding the city and making it function normally again. Ortiz draws inspiration from Syrians’ upbeat and positive attitudes, their love for their country (which, interestingly, they regard as a “living motherland”) and their pride in their 7,000-year history in which they themselves find inspiration and hope. Ortiz also speaks about the kind of world we are bequeathing to future generations, and what should be our legacy to them.

The interview flowed freely and quickly – Ortiz speaks quite rapidly and animatedly, and becomes emotional a couple of times – and the conversation bounces smoothly from one topic to another. Ortiz and Dore get on very well together and I am sure Ortiz will be returning to Dore’s show as guest interviewee in the not too distant future. The show is highly informative though viewers and listeners need to have some background knowledge of contemporary Syrian politics, how the current war began in the country and the various groups involved in fighting the Syrian government.

One thing that emerges from their talk, though Ortiz and Dore may not have been aware at the time, is the way in which Western news media portrays Syrians and Arab peoples generally: as backward people obsessed with religious sectarianism and literal interpretations of Islam and Shari’a law in particular. In the mindset of Western MSM news, Arab countries are always unstable and have long histories of tribal and religious conflict; this particular stereotype is not only racist but is part and parcel of a worldview in which Arabs cannot be trusted as stewards of energy resources needed by the West and cannot (and by implication should not) control their own lands. In this view also, Israel is the only country that is stable and democratic, and therefore should be treated favourably – in spite of its genocidal policies towards Palestinians and racist attitudes towards guest workers, refugees, immigrants and even Jewish people with non-Western backgrounds.

Servant or Slave: how Aboriginal people were exploited for their labour in conditions of virtual slavery

Steven McGregor, “Servant or Slave” (2017)

Few Australians have very little appreciation of the apartheid-style society that exploited Aboriginal people, Torres Strait Islanders and even Melanesians imported from abroad for their labour to clear land for pasture and plantation crops like sugar cane, establishing in the process the foundation for Australia’s agricultural wealth. But to understand how generations of Aboriginal children were taken away from their families for most of the 20th century, put into institutions that trained them to perform menial work or heavy labouring jobs for very little money (or even none), and how not just their employers but also Australian federal and state governments and their agencies benefited from such an institutional phenomenon, we need to know the social, political and economic context, and the ideology underpinning this context. The fact is that the Australian nation was founded on the exploitation of its resources – land, water, plants and animals, and ultimately even its native peoples – along with the exploitation of the convicts, migrants and others who came to the country after European settlement began in 1788, for geopolitical reasons that favoured a small English (and later British) elite. This exploitation was part of a vast imperial structure that encompassed lands in several continents (notably in Africa and southern Asia) and impoverished millions, destroyed their cultures and traditions, forced them to work and even to fight for their colonial masters in wars in distant countries, and allowed them to starve during periods of famine.

The value of “Servant or Slave” is not just to document how thousands of Aboriginal girls and young women were kidnapped or taken from their families and forced into institutions by the Australian government that trained them for domestic service, but to show how this arrangement was deeply embedded in Australian society and how the exploitation of Aboriginal people’s labour, through domestic service and other forms of employment, benefited the government and the people and companies who employed Aboriginal people in menial jobs or heavy physical work. The five indigenous women sharing their stories of how they were kidnapped by government agents from their families, put into institutions where they were beaten, sexually abused, brainwashed into believing they were inferior and taught not to trust their own people, and then later employed as full-time housekeepers, maids and unpaid baby-sitters, are very brave in reliving their experiences and traumas in interviews. They speak of the long-term psychological traumas and other harms they and their families (both their birth families and the families they later had themselves) suffered. These women’s experiences were typical of the experiences other Aboriginal girls (and even boys) had to undergo. Through interviews with historians and academics, we learn that Aboriginal people were never adequately paid for the work they did as domestic servants or rural agricultural workers and that as a result they could not amass and pass on any material wealth to their children and grandchildren, which helps to explain why so many Aboriginal families in many parts of Australia still live in poverty. Even more horrifying is news that the money that should have been paid to Aboriginal workers was instead used to fund even more predation of Aboriginal children and to support the institutions that trained them for lives of servitude.

The documentary uses re-enactments of the interviewees’ experiences to emphasise the fear they felt, their desperation and their isolation from help. While the re-enactments are tastefully done and are even poetic in style, they do tend to distance the audience from what is being shown on screen and don’t fully convey the horror of the abuse being portrayed or the victims’ immense suffering.

While the women interviewed reveal strength, determination and even pride that they endured such dreadful lives, and managed to find love through their children and grandchildren, the documentary ends on a fairly pessimistic note in observing that the monies owed to generations of Aboriginal people for their labour have either not been paid at all or are being dished out to them in ways and under conditions that are highly insulting and patronising towards them. It seems that the exploitative mind-set and ideology that dominated whitefella thinking and behaviour towards Aboriginal people from the mid-nineteenth century on still infects Australian politicians and bureaucrats, and still influences federal and state government policies that affect indigenous people’s lives. As Australia continues to follow the United States, Britain and other Western capitalist nations on a downward trajectory into more economic austerity, greater social inequality, lower standards of living and more financial and economic instability, the situation for Aboriginal people as a highly vulnerable group is likely to get worse.

Additional material that was not included in the original documentary focuses on the colonial exploitation of Melanesian people from the Solomon Islands and other Pacific island nations from the late nineteenth century as indentured labourers in sugar cane plantations in Queensland and other rural work that required much physical exertion in hot tropical or semi-tropical conditions.

Kuroneko: an ordinary ghost horror story saved by expressionist cinematography and social commentary

Kaneto Shindo, “Kuroneko” (1968)

A companion piece to his earlier classic “Onibaba”, Shindo’s “Kuroneko” explores vengeance and human desires for love in the setting of a typically Japanese ghost horror story. The film also expresses an anti-war theme by concentrating on the disruptions and changes war brings to poor people and to poor women in particular. Two farm women, Yone (Nobuko Otawa, who also appeared in “Onibaba”) and her daughter-in-law Oshige (Kiwako Taichi), are attacked in their home by a group of rough samurai led by Raiko Minamoto (Kei Sato) who rape and murder them, and who try to cover up their crime by burning down the farm-house with the dead women inside. The women’s spirits then inhabit the bodies of black cats and acquire the ability to change into aristocratic women in order to attack travelling samurai and drain them of their blood in their ghost mansion set up in the bamboo grove where their farmhouse used to be.

Oshige’s husband Hachi (Kichiemon Nakamura) returns from northern Japan with the head of an enemy general which he presents to his local governor who turns out to be Raiko Minamoto. Believing Hachi’s lie that he fought the general under the name Gintoki, Minamoto makes him samurai and then orders him to find and destroy the ghosts at Rajo Gate that are preying on samurai. Oshige finds the ghosts and realises they are the ghosts of his dead mother and wife. Oshige is torn between the pact she and Yone have made with underworld demons to destroy samurai and her love and desire for Hachi / Gintoki. Her choice condemns her but saves Hachi / Gintoki’s life. Forced by the governor on pain of death to get rid of Yone, Hachi / Gintoki tries to manoeuvre his way out of his dilemma of having to kill his mother’s ghost but finds himself outwitted.

The story is fairly and straightforward and trots along at a steady pace until its last few scenes when it speeds up and becomes unhinged when Hachi / Gintoki desperately fights his mother’s ghost. It is repetitive, even ritualistically so, for much of its running time and Western audiences may find its repetitive nature tedious. What elevates this ghost story into an eerie investigation of the supernatural woven through with social commentary is artful cinematography in which the natural world, populated by bamboo forests, and a minimalist style, from the furnishings to the dialogue and the costumes, are dominant. White mists swirl through the sparsely furnished rural mansion where the ghost women live. The use of light and darkness to create the world of the ghosts as opposed to the world of humans, and to highlight the desire Oshige and Hachi / Gintoki feel for each other is notable.

The transformation of two human farm women into ghostly aristocrats through a brutal incident clearly establishes Shindo as a director concerned for the well-being of the underclasses; the transformation also suggests that ordinary people who are close to nature and who create are the pawns and playthings of the nobility and warrior classes who, removed from the natural world, can only exploit and destroy what others create. While Hachi the farm-boy is raised to the level of samurai by killing someone, his lack of preparedness for the role he is required to play as samurai – that is, to kill – becomes his undoing. Governor Minamoto who elevates Hachi to the level of samuari and thus sends the young man on his way to karma remains unaffected by the events as they unfold.

The soundtrack is significant in its own right as a character – the film’s opening scenes are done entirely without dialogue and all we hear are the sounds of people drinking and eating, and later the sounds of violence, followed by the sounds of forest insects – and features a range of music from experimental folk using taiko drums to more conventional Western popular styles.

For all the tension created by the revenge plot and the dilemmas and conflicts faced by the main characters as they must navigate their changed status, whether socially in the world of humans or morally among the demons, the film seems quite ordinary compared to “Onibaba”. The acting is not nearly so good and the plot and sub-plots seem disjointed and do not flow well. Compared to other ghost story horror films being put out by other Japanese directors – the brilliant “Kwaidan” comes to mind – “Kuroneko” is redeemed mainly by its expressionist cinematography and must be regarded as a minor classic.