“What does courage look like inside systems that punish it?”
I was forwarded that question from someone who was developing a film series on resilience in fascist times. What a great prompt.
I had been thinking recently about the films I used to show my former photo students and how they could be useful now. Those were the before-times but in addition to the aspects I was hoping to convey to them in photo class - empathy, critical thinking, careful attention, eye for composition, and understanding unconventional narrative structures - I see how some of those films could offer answers to the question above. Or at least good followup questions.
Such films challenge the viewer. They are certainly not necessarily happy-happy or even obviously hopeful to the casual viewer. A few are even quite dark. But none are banal, none are formulaic, each is enriching and ultimately hopeful. Or if not hopeful at least grounded in real humanity and to me that counts for a lot. Some center on the power of art, music, beauty, nature, knowledge, or simply the act of maintaining courage in the face of fear and hopeless times.
I’ll give you a recent example to set this up a bit more. I went to see the new 28 Years Later: The Bone Temple the other day. I’ve followed the whole franchise and I’d heard good things about this one, even compared to its predecessor last year. (By the way, on the way there I noticed a small sign for a doctor’s office, a Dr. Kelson, who, if you don’t know, figures prominently in the film. What are the odds?)
I sat through the previews, which were the usual fare - depressing, brainless reminders of how assembly-line so many movies are these days. When you see the prevalence of violence, nihilism, anti-humanism (also overly sugar-coated kitsch, a kind of fake humanism), gender stereotypes, etc, plus the utter lack of critical thinking they require, it starts to make more sense where we find ourselves these days.
Anyway, then came the main attraction. Ok, yes, it’s quite brutally violent early on. I mean Bone Temple IS a zombie horror film. But soon it made me understand it was necessary to first be nauseated by the violence in order to counteract it. And in this film the worst violence is by broken people, not the infected.
Without giving anything away, I would argue the film gradually and subtly reinforces humanism for the viewer on several levels. Even the humanity of some villains and zombies themselves. I can’t describe the ending itself without spoiling it, but its unexpected poignance took my breath for a minute. There’s also a clever throwaway line about fascism and examples of empathy near the end which will surely be decried as woke. Lord help us.
The point is: what we watch matters, it shapes our outlook. It matters that we watch critically and carefully for what a good film can offer, and that hope and humanity can arrive in surprising forms if we’re open to it. Amid the gore and apocalyptic setting, Bone Temple offers more human values in its own way than any Disney film.
I left feeling a bit changed, always a good sign.
Which brings me to a short list of films I’m going to recommend in that spirit. I’m planning in-person community viewing and discussion events for these films, so if you’re local stay tuned. Or maybe we can add an online component, I’ll work on that. I’m not going to embed trailers here, for one thing they don’t work well in this newsletter format, but I will link the titles. You’ll have to look around to see where to stream them. Most of these I own and have watched many times.
All are ultimately about beauty and courage. In our systems that increasingly punish both.
If you’ve never seen it, it’s time. Joyful, electric, exuberant, funny, and of course great music in what was a somewhat dismal period in early 60s post-war England (ok, as opposed to the dismal 70s-80s Thatcher years, or the faux-sunniness of Tony Blair’s ‘Cool Brittania’, or Boris Johnson’s hair, or the ten minutes Liz Truss was in there, BUT I DIGRESS). It’s actually a quite avant-garde piece of filmmaking, more in line with the French new wave of the time. Punctures the burgeoning world of marketing to teenagers in an iconic, absurdist scene with George Harrison and an ad exec (with lines like “The new thing is to care passionately and be right-wing”). Takes aim at authority, inertia, and class throughout, and shows how to create a more exciting reality amid stasis. It’s four guys that made virtually everyone feel differently about the world. THAT ENERGY.
A short, gorgeously-animated film that is not really for kids (though I’d say suitable for any age 7+). Centered on the making of the first illustrated bible, the real-life Book of Kells, in a fortified village in medieval Ireland during a period of rampant Viking raids, it’s really about the power of art and beauty in existential times. Even when - especially when - you’re losing. It weaves in a lot of historical layers, especially around the tension between paganism and the newer arrival of Christianity. Truly incredible visuals in service of brisk storytelling. Spoiler: the battle is indeed lost but beauty and humanity still win the war.
A profound documentary, by director Wim Wenders, on the late Brazilian photographer Sebastiao Salgado. After a lifetime covering tragedy and suffering on a global scale, Salgado is worn down, sick. He turns to making images of nature’s power, and he and his wife retreat to his family farm where they oversee an astonishing revitalization of land ravaged by climate change. A stunning example of how individuals can make a difference. Salgado himself is a deep, enigmatic, monk-like presence, and his photography and Wenders’ sensitive vision are top-notch.
A Choice of Weapons: Inspired by Gordon Parks
Finally, the first excellent documentary about one of the greatest, larger-than-life photo warriors of modern times. A big element of the film’s power is the historical sweep from the civil rights era to the modern day and its focus on the younger generation of African-American photographers taking their inspiration from Parks. And it shows what an incredible renaissance man he was. (Yeah, it’s HBO, but it’s also on Amazon and Kanopy.)
This one might seem an odd choice for a list of hope-films. While maybe the most accessible work by the late Hungarian auteur Bela Tarr (compared to, say, his seven-hour Satantango), WH is not for the faint of heart. A desolate town falls into madness with the ominous arrival of a ranting but unseen demagogue and a strange ‘circus’ comprised of a single attraction: a giant stuffed whale in a trailer truck. Brooding MAGA-types gather in the town square, and eventually explode in mindless violence that culminates in one of the most astonishing sequences in cinema. The main character is a kind of ‘holy fool’, both simple and seemingly the only one with both sanity and compassion. The film is also not for the short attention-ed, it takes its time letting things unfold. Tarr is famous for extremely long, uncut shots, a refusal to offer traditional comforts to the viewer, and heavy themes. He’s in his gear and you have to get there too. But the imagery is astonishingly beautiful, if bleak, and a few moments are even darkly funny (especially the opening scene). If you’ve got the stomach to hang in there, it will pull you in and work its spell, even if you don’t quite know what to make of it all. Things don’t end well but even in that there is a certain empathy to be found.
And Tarr pushed the boundaries of cinema like no other. Two and a half hours, only 39 shots!
I’ll add one more, the latest from Wim Wenders. I finally watched Perfect Days recently. It's a pretty special film, so sweet yet mysterious, as with most of Wenders’ work it does so much with so little. The protagonist doesn't talk much. There's no real plot, at first mainly just observing a Tokyo toilet cleaner's daily routines and habits. Little by little more layers are revealed through a few interactions, like with his colleague and when his young niece shows up. Along the way the man’s eye for life's everyday beauty begins to mix with pathos, but the overriding 'vibe' of the film is definitely a certain empathetic equanimity woven into everything.
Stay safe in the storm (in all senses). Hope you enjoy these if you’re hunkering down.
By the way, after my recent bout of flu my guest spot on Takoma Radio has been rescheduled to this Thursday from 7-9pm EST. With host the ‘night nurse’ Madona Tyler LeBlanc we’ll be trading songs and discussing the idea of ‘future music’ in the first hour. In the second hour we’ll talk about how to make such music, with some tracks from my New World Voyage album and I’ll play a few songs live. Hope you’ll tune in!