Behind-the-Scenes with “The First Grader’s” director, Justin Chadwick Pt. 1

I spoke with Justin Chadwick, director of “The First Grader,” one day after having seen it at Minneapolis’ Walker Art Center – for free!  Always the right price, but particularly so during a toilet bowl economy.  As with many independent film-makers, he is down-to-earth and pretty much a straight shooter.

"The First Grader's" director, Justin Chadwick, with Will Wright (courtesy Wright's Words)

Will Wright: It’s common and typical for Anglo film-makers to make movies about black people, where the anchor of the story isn’t black him or herself.  It’s refreshing to see that there isn’t a heroic, superior Anglo who comes in to “save the school.”  We had “Dangerous Minds,” 15 years ago, and “Freedom Writers.”  How concerned were you, being a man from Manchester, who wasn’t introduced to all the dynamic and violent politics coming in and doing this story?

Justin Chadwick: Well I was very aware from the outset that I am from Manchester England.  And I had not been to Kenya before, and it dealt with a period of history, as well as Kenyan history that hadn’t been told.  There’s very few records remaining of that time.  At the time of making this film, the British press side of things.  They’re represented as being these guerilla army that basically murder people in their beds.  There’s that, but this other side.

So I knew going into Kenya, that, I was from outside.  I had to use that to its advantage, to use it as a way of me being able to go in as a guest in their country.  The first three or four months I was there I basically observed, and listened and let people tell their stories.  I’d go speak to the elders in each village that I’d go it.  And because of that approach, everywhere I went I was open-heartedly received.  I wasn’t like the other movies that’d been there: “Tomb Raider,” “Out of Africa,” even “Constant Gardener,” had shipped everything in to that country.  I was living with the people I was working with, living in the community where the school was.  Even from the very first, I was with Kmani Maruge in his hospice.  I would go in with Kikuyu, which were his tribe.  So they built an openness and between me and the people I was representing and also the people I was working with.

Mr. Chadwick directing "The First Grader"

I didn’t know what it was going to be like in Tudor England, or with the “Other Boleyn Girl,” or I didn’t know what it was going to be like when I did “Bleak House,” in Victorian England.  With this I actually talked directly with the people that this story involves, to try and find the truth.   And I think that’s what stood me in stead for it really.

W: You’re the second film-maker I’ve met recently who’s spoken of having that observational approach, attitude.  Can you tell me how many of your peers use that approach?

Ang Lee, when he did sense and sensibility – I remember reading how he felt like an outsider coming into English, period, costume drama, would use that eye that he had, and that sensibility that he had to try to understand.  He made a film from being like that, in that way.  He made a film that was really true.  And yet you know, he was from a different world, and a different country.  And I remember that was something that was in my mind when I was going into this.

This began for American newsreaders in 2004, when the New York Times’ Marc Lacey wrote a Sunday profile piece.  There he described what “changed when the Kenyan government declared a year ago that primary school education would be free through grade 8. Millions of new pupils showed up at neighborhood campuses, swelling enrollment from 5.9 million students to 7.3 million virtually overnight. Mr. Maruge, with his gray beard and weathered face, was among those in line.”

According to Robyn Dixon’s reporting for the Los Angeles Times, a year later, “As a young man, he was angered over his lack of education. He put those feelings away, but the thirst for education lay dormant most of his life. Now it has burst out, perhaps too late to keep up with the whirl of his belated ambitions: primary school, secondary school, university and a career in veterinary science.”

Oliver Litondo as Kimani Maruge in "The First Grader"

W: How did you design the proportion of Mau Mau flashback scenes to the proportion of the present-day, desire to learn kind of scenes?

To get that kind of balance is tricky in a film.  I wanted to put in that backstory because it was so important to the man that he was when he went to the school to learn to read, he wanted to understand his past, to move on.

I worked with an editor called Carol Littleton; she’d done films like “ET” and “The Big Chill,” and she’s a brilliant editor.  She always talks about the playability of a film; you go into a cinema, and the film has to play.  That you’ve got to sweep your audience with you to the end of the film.

It was something, from the very beginning, that I’m very conscious of, when I’m working on the script: it was, yes, a simple story about a man going back to school and being educated.  But also it had to propel forward with an energy.  So that was something – just the pacing of the film, how we put the flashbacks.  Each time there was a scene, it pushed on to the next.  So there was a momentum to the film; it always had pace to it.

As Mr. Lacey reported in 2004, having access to lessons and a great teacher is splendid.  But then to have that teacher plucked out from under you, like the first rug and hint at stability, was rough and short-sighted.  Mr. Chadwick mentioned an anecdote that Jane Obinchu, Mr. Maruge’s sole headmaster in the film, told him about how her students reacted to her having been away from that school, and aborting her trouble-making.

“Jane Obinchu was the one who told me about the riot at the end of the movie; that was something that wasn’t in the film’s original script, that Ann had written.  Jane said,’Oh did they tell you what had happened?  Let me tell you about what happened when I was thrown out of the school.’  And then she told me about these amazing children.  This stand, as their parents were welcoming the new headmaster for the school, the children closed the gates of the school, stood-up against them with rocks, not plastic rocks and bits like it is in my film. And they refused to open the gates to the school.  There was this big, huge riot.  The parents climbed over the gates of the school.  The police had to be called to break it all up,” Mr. Chadwick said.

He continues, “Yes, it feels extraordinary that kids rise up, against their parents.” That climax wasn’t in the original script.  He mentioned it because, that is something like from a Hollywood film, but it wasn’t.  I know, when people see that in the film, they’ll think gosh that’s a figment of a writer’s imagination.  But it’s absolutely true there.”

Click, if you’re hunger for the second half of this conversation with Justin.

Justin Chadwick harnesses child power

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“The First Grader” has inspiring, urgent hope for literacy, and Kenyan history

When education hits the hometown headlines, it’s usually due to bullying, disruptive student, or “non-essential,” but vital programs having been gutted.  There are still places where the zeal and hunger for knowledge understanding and growth come through like a natural force.

One new film, “The First Grader,” a drama from director Justin Chadwick (“The Other Boleyn Girl” and “Bleak House”), reminds us of that zeal and the kind of history or community oral memory that keeps it stoked.  This film is the extraordinary story of a man who seized his people’s first opportunity to learn to read right when his First World contemporaries would be reading hospice brochures.

Kimani Maruge (Oliver Litondo) in "The First Grader" (courtesy National Geographic Films)

In 2002 the Kenyan government invited all citizens to attend primary school for free.  This led to surprising and stymieing situation: according to the film, more than 200 children came in throngs to claim the school’s 50 seats.

One man showed up, not with his son in tow, nor his grandson, but himself and his zealous curiosity.  At age 84, Kimani N’gan’ga Maruge, who had served his country as a Mau Mau guerilla, was prepared to sit among children so he could learn to read.  “The First Grader” extols the power and promise of basic education, the essential literacy and people’s zeal for it.  Contrast this with the disappointing portion of American youths who, having taken free public education for granted, squander their opportunities to milk it to their curiosity’s fill.

Mr. Maruge without his classroom clothes (courtesy National Geographic Films)

This is being shown at Landark Theatre’s Edina Theatre for a week from May 27st.

The zealous reminder about the promise of education is powerful.  Mr. Maruge’s (Oliver Litondo) dual narrative, from, first off, his incredible personal history to, secondly, his equally winning pursuit of knowledge and access.  These topics of literacy and access are one half of the story’s message, vital for those, whose elders didn’t raise them within reach of books.  The other historical message, although dwarfed by the main plot, provides a lesson about the prices paid in Kenya’s fight for freedom, to lead itself.

My conversation with Justin Chadwick tells more details and insights about Mr. Maruge’s complex story and how he put it on-screen.

The Mau Mau soldiers, despite British colonial propaganda, zealously opposed Britain’s inhumane, violent tyranny.  This is a barely known slice of African and Kenyan history that is probably, largely omitted from American and British high school history texts.  In many ways, Mr. Maruge’s magnetism is so potent the hardest-to-watch parts of his whole history can nourish viewers. We are introduced to a piece of history – lost, stolen or strayed.

Chadwick’s film tells us that Maruge simply wanted to be able to read a letter, not just any.  But one from the government.  It apologized for the abuses and thanked him for his sacrifice and service to a sovereign Kenya, and told him of reparations.

Feel-good movies are simple yarns for simple people.  “The First Grader” is a mostly family-friendly and crowd-pleasing story.  Usually viewers only need to be open to the high-concept “seize the day” or “power of one” messages in order to appreciate them  These stories are basic tales that reiterate what your parents extolled until they became sick of you rolling your eyes.

It’s remarkable that Justin Chadwick defies this genre’s typical limitations: simplicity, and shallow, flat portrayals & narratives.  It’s a feel-good story that takes us back to “Lean on Me,” from 1989, “The Power of One,” from 1992, or “Dangerous Minds,” from 1995.

Very few films deal with mature, difficult historical topics with candor and without bias, especially with Africa; it’s misunderstood and tainted with Western stereotypes.  Mr. Chadwick defies the Hollywoodian routine of taking a black story and then identifying or conjuring a superior Anglo hero as the lead, even when that clashes with the historical record.  This happened in often: in “Glory,” from 1988, “The Power of One,” “Amistad,” from 1997, and other films.

Thank goodness, as Mr. Chadwick mentioned in our conversation, there’s humor in this movie to staple viewers’ butts to their seats.  Kenyan radio DJ Churchill has bits throughout where he gives a voice to the public’s opinion of Maruge and his situation.

That reminds me of New York-based comedian, Rachel Feinstein, who has a witty and hilarious bit, where she lovingly mocks her mom’s closet desire to take Michelle Pfeiffer’s place in Dangerous Minds:

My mom wants to be, like, one of those white women, in the movies, that saves a black school; like Michelle Pfeiffer, in “Dangerous Minds.”  I think that’s her dream.

Unfortunately YouTube doesn’t have this clip (nor do DailyMotion or Vimeo), but it is elsewhere – it’s well worth a click, and a chuckle, specifically at 00:36.

But “The First Grader” takes a risk: it introduces viewers to a history of British colonists and their arrogant barbarism toward the Natives.  The Mau Mau rebellion is probably a rare topic for American students, outside of high-level college classes.

It’s a portion of Kenyan and British colonial history that has been easily lost, stolen or strayed; that’s also the title of an incisive, but accessible documentary, “Black History: Lost, Stolen or Strayed,” which Bill Cosby made 40 years ago, in 1968, as a part of his doctoral program.  The film illustrated the slippery slope that can lead to forgotten, rarely comfortable, but undeniably vital slices of history that prove to be too tart for the majority to swallow without flailing.

A meager excerpt, a tease, from “Black History: Lost, Stolen or Strayed?”

What doesn’t work?  The people who fought against Mr. Maruge being a student had shallow arguments for expelling him from class.  “There isn’t enough room or money?!”  They are simple, hard-working people who can’t understand why an old man would push so hard to be a student.  It’s too bad that their arguments against his being allowed are narrow and shoddy.

“The First Grader” provides two takeaways, one for the feel good audience: no one is too old to be a student.   And another for those who already know this, and have brought someone to the theater; they’ll enjoy the subplot about Mr. Maruge’s backstory, and what it reveals about a vital, but well-hidden topic of African, Kenya, British and ultimately World history.

You’ll find more details, in my interview with the director, Justin Chadwick.  You’ll learn why yet another Anglo man made a movie about Africans, and the unbelievable Hollywoodian climactic riot scene wasn’t yet another one conjured by that Dream Factory.

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“Circo” is a family drama that boils within a tiny Mexican circus

“Circo” is a 75-min documentary, by Aaron Schock, about a family-run Mexican Circus.  This is a very interesting tale of a job on the margins, in a country, Mexico, that’s on the margins of the Western world’s media radar.  In “Circo,” a family, the Ponces, is born into, grows up in and lives and works in its own small, struggling family-run circus.  Compromises, troubles and strained & clashing loyalties make the circus that is the family and its work.

A grand entrance (courtesy Hecho a Mano Films)

The Mexican economy isn’t kind or gentle to this family.  Too many small-scale circuses compete among one another for dwindling and poor audiences.  Ironically the Ponces are among them.

This opens at Minneapolis’ Lagoon Cinema for a week on May 20th.

The circus is surviving, squeezing out enough money for the Ponces to subsist. Theirs is a nomadic lifestyle.  They’re nomadic entertainers in a world that has little use for that entertainment; their story is special, maybe unique.

The mom, Ivonne Ponce, wants her children go to school, to prepare to have choices and careers away from the circus.  Instead the dad, Tino Ponce, was raised holding his loyalty to parents above all (where his dad relies on and expects him to keep the one successful family circus afloat).  His father has three other sons, each of whom is struggling with his own circus.

Ponce daughters preened to promote Circo Mexico (courtesy Hecho a Mano Films)

The children want for a 20th-Century childhood, with playtime, school and neighborhood playmates.  This brand of childhood, before labor laws and longer life expectancies, takes us back the eras when people toiled until their 30s, and didn’t know a playful youth.  There’s a scene, just beside the entry to a trailer, where grandpa trains his youngest grand daughter in contortion; as she cries and wails it brings back images from the abusive training that made parts of Jet Li and Jackie Chan’s training infamous.

This documentary raises several interesting topics about family loyalty, zeal for “old-time” or “by-gone” values, work ethic and child rearing; unto themselves these are worthy of an essay, but not here.  Very few movies deal with any of these in smart or interesting ways, much less all in one story.

“Circo” gives us a gander at a way of living, of working, of loving and is foreign to the U.S.  It’s a well-told tale that deserves to be scene.  Even though the final act is confused about its purpose or how it wants to leave us; it should be trimmed by 15-minutes – it drags.

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“Incendies” is story of family history, forgiveness and one mom’s daunting, final request

With their enigmatic mom, Nawal Marwan (Lubna Azabal), dead, her astonishing last will & testament sends her fraternal twins Jeanne (Mélissa Désormeaux-Poulin) and Simon Marwan (Maxim Guadette), who are Canadian, on an odyssey in the Middle East.

This is just the edge of the flame that is “Incendies,” from director Denis Villeneuve.  Upon her death, Nawal’s will sends them to pursue another brother and a father – utter mysteries to them both.

Mélissa Désormeaux-Poulin and Maxim Guadette consider mom's will in "Incendies" (courtesy Sony Classics)

“Incendies,” which is fire or flames in French, is a daring tale of family history & forgiveness that describes what ruins Nawal has left behind for Jeanne and Simon to walk through.  It tells one mom’s life story while hinting at how her daughter might reconsider hers.  This, while the pessmistic son, who feels none of the guilt, which he’s sure Jeanne does, just ignores Nawal’s final request.

Minneapolis’ Uptown Theatre shows this for a week starting on May 13th.

The twins’ journey will upturn their lives and themselves.  It might or might not reveal truths, which’ll hurt them, and change how they know themselves and their mom.

The film introduces Nawal as a young lover, pregnant and unmarried.  In these circumstances, she shames her family and is shunned, and then is sent to a madrassa to be educated.  After she goes through to college, and writes for the school newspaper, her political zeal leads her to an agonizing descent: she commits an act of political violence, and lands in prison.

The dusky light within Nawal becomes dark when she’s sent to jail for several years, languishing.  Her agonies are so intense and profound that she hasn’t dared to confide to anyone.  Upon her death, Jeanne and Simon grew up with the image of her a long-time secretary, no more no worse.

Nawal seizes her view to a kill in "Incendies" (courtesy Sony Classics)

Armchair soldiers often talk, with puffed-out chests, about the “glorious” realities & ravages of war.  Her story reeks of those imprints – they mark her body, her life and herself.  Those harrowing scars might just rival Sophie Zawistowska’s in 1982′s “Sophie’s Choice.”  Nawal’s story, which only Jeanne takes on in full, shows the grimiest and grimmest of her life’s shadows. Nawal couldn’t bare herself enough to share these with her children.

One hint: the three dots on one boy’s or man’s heel tell 1,000s of words about Nawal’s twisted, unbelievable life.

One problem: Mesdames Azabal and Désormeaux-Poulin, and the geographic landmarks, resemble each other too much, so it can be hard to tell the difference between the scenes where mom walks her life or her daughter retracing those steps.  We might not know what or how to feel.

“Incendies” is a witty and difficult film to watch; while some plot elements might sicken you, this story and its message are valuable.

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Behind-the-scenes with Sara McIntyre, non-Indian director of “Two Indians Talking,” about doing the right thing

Nathaniel Arcand alongside Sara McIntyre (courtesy Flickr)

I spoke, via Skype, with Canadian film-maker Sara McIntyre about her debut as a feature film director of “Two Indians Talking.”  The 30th Minneapolis St. Paul International Film Festival showed it twice.

As I wrote in my review, “‘Two Indians Talking’ gives us two young Native men, cousins, on their way to a meeting where they expect to have a bunch of Cree Indians join them, a dozen or maybe dozens.  But their partners don’t show.  So rather than watching a cadre of zealous activists prepare an ambitious protest – a stand – we watch Two Indians Talking about what this means.”

How hard or awkward was it for you to make a film about Natives when you’re an outsider?

You’re right; that was a particularly sensitive issue.  And I had to sort of get my head straight with the idea of me approaching this particular topic…  And I think the thing that gave me confidence is that I was invited.  The script was sent to me by a writer, who I had not met yet, although I certainly knew his name.  Andrew (Genaille) was a friend of a friend at the time.  And he heard that I was looking for feature scripts, and he started e-mailing me things.  And because he comes from the First Nations culture (the Canadian term for Natives or Indians), all of his stories come from that community.  …And this one just grabbed me; it was unlike anything I had read before; unlike anything I had seen before.  It totally drew me in, the story and the characters just caught my attention right away.

So the goofy thing is, he was sending me scripts, knowing that I was looking for something to direct, but it actually took me a couple of days to get up the courage to ask him if I could please direct this.

But the bigger issue was, my approach as a director was never to impose my idea of what the story is or who it’s about so what I did, and I think it’s the thing that allowed trust and doors to open, is that I went in asking to be shown, and I did this with the actors too.  I sat down with each of them and just had them tell me what their own personal experiences were, and how those related to the story.  And tell me what the script meant; I was never telling them was the story was about.  They were telling me what the story was about.

The cousins, Adam and Nathan, chew on the question of doing the right thing, as activists, quite a bit.

How different is the right thing for each cousin?  Since each of these cousins has a different or disparate idea of what the right thing is, to your mind, how different is that for each cousin?

Well that’s an interesting place to look, isn’t it?

(She takes time to consider.)

WW: Have I thrown you a curve ball?

SM: No, I like that you’re asking good questions; this’s fun!

SM: So the bottom-line is that they both decide to take the same action, so they’re in agreement on what the right thing is, but they come to it from very different places.  So the thing that fascinates me about each of their decisions is…  There’s so much complexity; we can’t just say, “oh Adam is doing it for this reason, and Nathan’s doing it for this reason.”

I think that Nathan shows up ready to go; he’s there.  No questions asked.  He’s gonna go through with it.  But when we look a little deeper, the reasons that he thinks he has are actually a little thin.

Like he’s making grand statements about this band or that band, but it turns out that he’s actually inaccurate about some of those statistics.  So he needs to get a little more solid in his thinking.

Adam’s journey – he’s full of theory, full of rhetoric, full of statistics and he’s really cerebral about the whole thing.  And he really needs to connect to the people, and the community, the reason that we do things like this.  And I think a big part of that journey happens in Nathan’s story about the little boy who doesn’t have underwear: where his mom says, “I can feed him or I can clothe him.

(There’s a scene where the cousins clash over whether someone’s mom abused them, or simply did the best she could with what little she had.  It was an allegory about the practical realities of activism vs. idealism.)

I think that’s where the shift starts for him.  He (Adam) really sees his cousin, who he has hasn’t taken very seriously, and he starts to really get him, that there’s something deeper going on here.

 

SM:  Now.  So I’m interested in your take on it.  Obviously you’ve done a lot of thinking about this.  What does it mean that Nathan only goes when he knows it’s gonna be successful?

WW: This is a new experience for me.  (Responding to a subject’s question.)

WW: He’s human.  When you think that you’re facing an overwhelming opposition, unless you figure that you have God or the gods on your side, you’re not gonna take it upon yourself to stand at the roadblock.  I’m not gonna fault Nathan for having chosen kind of an easy way out.  Death, or killing someone is a wonderfully easy topic to consider in drama.  But when you’re on the scene and you have to actually consider facing someone down who’s aiming a weapon at you…

SM: That’s a good point; I hadn’t thought about it that way.  And that’s why the film feels real.  A lot of people have said, “this feels personal;” “this feels real.”  And I think that’s because these guys don’t ever trivialize violence.

Ms. McIntyre spoke with Joseph Planta, for a Canadian podcast “On the Line;” they agreed in finding the educated cousin, Adam, obnoxious.

I have to pin you to a wall here, because, in your conversation with Mr. Planta, you both described Adam as obnoxious and full of himself… (I liked him.)

SM: What’s the question; do I still feel that way?

WW: Some part of him chafed against you.

SM: The first time I read it, the first impression I got was “this guy is irritating!”  He’s sort of pent up, and he’s angry.  He’s so tense that his humor is flat and he just sounds sort of abrasive.

…I imagine he’s the kind of guy whose just felt out of place no matter where he is.  Growing up on the reserve, with the community of people largely like Nathan, who had very strong opinions about things.  He probably really felt out of place.  And he was craving more information…

When Sara spoke again with Mr. Planta, she said that Justin Rain, who portrayed Adam, wasn’t her first choice.

How would the film have been different, for good or for ill, if Justin Rain hadn’t been the one to bring Adam to life?

Justin actually was the first person who caught my attention for this role.

So he showed up at a table reading; just a workshop.

(Ah; the truth)

There are so many different layers to it; sometimes I just tell the abbreviated version.

So he showed up at a script workshop that we did months before the audition process.  And he caught my attention, because he just is this character, on so many levels; I mean he really gets it.  And I discovered that he actually knew about the script maybe a year before I did.  So he was very familiar with it.  Then, what happened is, I was offered the opportunity to work with someone who has a lot of experience, and has a fanbase, and also is a very good actor, and was right for the part.  Completely different kind of energy than Justin.

(She refused to name him.)

His energy was a lot more calm and innocent and wide-eyed and he brings a very youthful, thoughtful – not youthful “naive” – but that wisdom that young people have: just straight forward and honest, and open.  And I could see the story going that way, playing against Nathaniel’s grittiness, and that’d be a really fun dynamic to direct.

So I told Justin, “I’ve been offered ‘this name.’”  And it works for the story too.  For me as a first-time director, having two pretty substantial actors in the film.  It felt like that’d be a pretty wise, strategic decision to make.

And Justin just said to me, “Oh, yeah.  You have to do that!

So Justin stepped out of the way.  And I went through my preparation process with this other actor in mind.  And then, honestly, two weeks before we were supposed to go to camera, the other actor had to pull out for a number of reasons.  And I called Justin.  And I honestly think it turned out for the best.”  So it had been Justin’s from the start.  A better known, more bankable actor had interrupted the process.

What’s your next project?

I haven’t yet found a script that lit me up the way this one did.  So I’m trying to meet with a lot of writers and just form relationships with people who’ve got stories.  I worked with writers for a number of years; I co-produced a script-writing workshop, here in Vancouver that was quite rigorous.   And I learned a lot about writing from that; and I learned a lot about writers.  The biggest thing I learned is that I’m not innately a screenwriter, which I think is a good thing to know.  (chuckles)

So I have a couple of stories, that’ve been very well outlined.  But I want to hand them over to screenwriters who can turn them into scripts.  So my focus is to meet writers, who either have work ready to be optioned, that I can get involved with, or who would like to take my stories and turn them into scripts.

But it feels a lot like chance, a lot like dating…

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“Love During Wartime” is a tense, political “Romeo and Juliet” story for millennials

“Love During Wartime” is a political “Romeo and Juliet” story for millennials.  It’s a documentary from the Sweden and Israel, and director Gabrielle Bier.  This is about two young artists, Jasmin, an Israeli Jew, and Osama, a Muslim Palestinian who have to fight against their home states in order to keep their love.

Assi and Jasmin in love, and against the state

Osama’s nickname is Assi.  He and Jasmin fall for each other around 2007 and want to make it official, against the odds – generations worth of political angst.  She is a working ballet dancer, and former soldier.  He is a visual artist.  Neither of their home countries can comprehend interfaith love.

This was shown during the 30th Minneapolis St. Paul International Film Festival.

The byzantine bureaucracy of each war-weary and wary country treads a paranoid path that reaches Kafkaesque levels of absurdity.  This tense love story is very talky with meager action:  the lovers either talk or argue with each other.  Or Jasmin argues with or confides in her German parents about warring states and the stakes, or Assi does likewise with his friends.  Assi and Jasmin struggle, loving and living separately for several months while waiting for either Israel or Palestine to treat them as people in love instead of wartime talking points.

Jasmin and Assi (courtesy Mpls St. Paul Int'l Film Festival)

Each of them visits the other under temporary permits.  One time is in Germany: Jasmin wants him there so they may marry and he may become a citizen because she already is.  And then he may start working.  Just then he holds a student visa, lives off of her, and aches to work.

To some extent “Love During Wartime” resembles Richard Linklater’s “Before Sunrise,” from 1995.  Except that the levels of political and social angst leech the fun from Assi and Jasmin’s love.  Those tensions lift their romantic stakes, and the drama, above the banal ones that were involved in “Before Sunrise.”

This documentary is interesting and worth watching, although maybe it’s only “fun” for those viewers who really dig this.

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What’s behind “The Greatest Movie Ever Sold” and inside Morgan Spurlock’s mind?

Documentarian Morgan Spurlock (2004′s “Supersize Me”) discusses why he made “The Greatest Movie Ever Sold” and some frustrating surprises that stymied it and his aspirations.

(courtesy Sony Classics)

Of all the topics, why product placement and brand-integrated movies?

“It is literally a stepping stone.  It’s one piece to a larger conversation about marketing and advertising.  It opens the door to a conversation that’s easily understood from the start.  From that point we can dive into other issues, about how we’re marketed to, how we’re advertised to – the impact that has on us, using this journey of the movie as kind of the catalyst.”

This morning I was watching the TED talk you did.  I remember how you made your point.  I thought it remarkable, your zeal for transparency.  When I saw the screen burn (definition of “transparency” shown on-screen) Transparency: “absence of pretense or deceit.”  That is almost a dangerous goal in our culture.  How successful, how potent do you think the film is?

“I think the film is really successful in that.  I think what this film does, in a really unique way…is it pulls back the curtain and gives you access to rooms, conversations, people and things you’ve never seen before.  I think that’s a really valuable tool as a consumer, as a film-goer, being armed with the fantastic tool-kit of awareness is something we should all have.  I think it does pull the veil back and suddenly changes the way you look at advertising and marketing.”

What was the biggest disappointment?

That In-N-Out burger wouldn’t do it.

(Beat) (quizical look)

“Because you can’t have a doc-buster – a documentary blockbuster. That’s what we wanted to do.  An independent film that has as many partners as a gigantic Hollywood summer movie, that’re doing exactly the same thing in promoting this movie, of getting people excited about it.  …You wanna have that happy meal, you wanna have that kids meal.  If you’re gonna make a doc-buster, you gotta have that.  And we couldn’t do it; we couldn’t git it.  We tried.  We tried.  We tried.

McDonald’s didn’t call back – big surprise there!  Burger King wanted nothing to do with the film.  Taco Bell said “no.”  No Jack in the Box.  No Wendy’s.  No Pizza Hut.  All the way down the line.

Even In-N-Out burger; I wanted them to do that so bad!

Why them in particular?

“One: I really like In-N-Out.  I think In-N-Out makes a great hamburger.

“You know when the french fries show up at an In-N-Out you know what you find when they open the french fry box?  Potatoes.  Crazy.  They pull out a whole potato.  They put it through the shucker, and then the deep fryer.  And they have this real, satirical outlook, and they’re a fun brand.  Like a fun company. “

It made sense for this film, but they…

“But they thought it did not make sense.

“I wanted to make an unhappy meal, or a thoroughly displeased meal.  How funny would that be: come to in-and-out burger for your thoroughly displeased meal.  Woulda been genius!”

Obviously transparency is one of your caveats, one of your credos.  What’s the least transparent thing about how you do what you do.

“There’s a great quote by Werner Herzog, in a documentary film, every cut is a lie; every edit is a lie.’”  What he means by that is you can’t literally turn a camera on, and I can’t show you two hours non-stop.  Like, you can’t make a movie like that.  Literally you’re changing the story every time you cut.

The argument is “well you’re not changing it.  Ultimately what you’re doing is you’re condensing it.  Because we shot 375 hours.  I’m not gonna present an Andy Warhol-esque movie where I’m just gonna let 375 hours run in a movie theater.  Cause no one’ll ever see it…”

Somebody would wanna kill you.

“Exactly, if not multiple people.”

I asked him about his meeting with executives who didn’t know their company’s talking points.

That was really strange.  When you were meeting with Ban roll-on folks.   Who are branding executives who –

“Can’t identify the brand…

“I bet if you asked them that question today, they’d have an answer.  …I bet they could answer that question in five seconds!”

Did you cut anything even more embarrassing out of that?”

“Well originally when we first asked it, we asked the question and we cut right to her answer, and I was like, ‘but they didn’t answer it that fast.’  So I went back into the edit with Tom and we play the whole thing out in real time.  I said ‘let it play.’”

“Cut to the wide shot, so they know we’re not cutting.  We’re not milking it.  We’re not making it longer.  Just go to the wide shot and let it sit.  So, just as soon as I ask the question we just go to the wide shot – it was great!  So now you know there’s no trickery.  We’re not doing anything to make it longer.

That was something shy of FUBAR.

[Spurlock laughs]

“Really..?!”

You don’t know.  In this economy…!  All right…

“The least transparent thing about a project like this is one, the amount of work that goes into it, and the amount of stuff you don’t get to see.  Cause there are tough choices, really, that go into making a movie.  And I believe the sweet spot for a movie, and especially a documentary movie is about 90-minutes.  You know, I think you start to lose people as you get to two hours.”

“I think we live in such a world when people have such short attention spans.  Especially if you’re watching at home – forget about it.  I was just watching a movie, yesterday, when I got to my hotel here.  I started watching “I Am Number 4.”  About halfway through “I Am Number 4,” I had my computer on my lap – I was working – I was already checked-out!  I was done.  And I realized suddenly ‘I’m not even watching the movie now.’  …I am that guy.”

“I love having stuff go to television after the fact.  But the movie theater is an experience.  It is a captive experience.  There’s no place else like it.  Not even sporting events.  Like tennis.  Cause even football games, you’re talking to one another during the game.”

“There’s no place else like it.  Like Where people are so dead silent and doing nothing but paying attention to the action – doesn’t happen.  I believe that filmmaking, movie theaters is like a sacred place.

I indulged in a fan-like question about his former cable series, “30-Days,” which was canceled.

A year ago, I bumped into 30-Days years ago on FX.  It earned awards.

“They canceled the show because it started to get expensive.  By season three, it was probably costing $750,000 an episode, maybe $800,000.  Which is not astronomical at all.  Especially one where we’re shooting for like five weeks straight.

“The bigger thing we were up against at FX were ratings.  The ratings averaged between 1.1-milion 1.5 million viewers from the premiere.  Where as “The Shield,” which was the number one show at the time, got 6-million.  ”Rescue Me” got about 5.5-mil, “Nip-Tuck” got about 5-mil.  …And that’s what ad sales were comparing us to.”

“So literally we’re getting put in the same box.   But these shows are dramas and comedies; how can you compare these shows..? But that’s what happened.  The only reason we got a third season was that I agreed to do two episodes.”

“I felt we were in great hands with that show.  There’s no place else where we could’ve done this.”

After having watched his TED talk…

Now you have 900-mil media impressions domestically.

“That was in February!  “Now, it’s gotta be in the billions.”

Spurlock had a compact with POM Wonderful to provide at least 600-million media impressions…

“You know where we screwed up in the negotiations, really?!  I tell ya the one thing, just in terms of being not a smart negotiator, was that we didn’t negotiate for success.

You have to have a metric then.

“I would’ve kept that metric going.  Cause if this’s the metric going up to 600 million.  I would’ve said this’s the metric going up to a billion.  Three billion.  Whatever that crazy number is.  I feel like we totally missed an opportunity.

(beat)

“A real opportunity.  I real financial opportunity was squandered!”

 


Mr. Spurlock wears a Tom Baker suit with brand logos embroidery sprawled over it.

I gotta ask about the suit.  Assuming this was tailored, did the tailor just have to laugh?

“Well first the suit was tailored.  But then we took it to Jonathan in New York City; Jonathan’s the embroiderer.  And so the embroidering was done after the tailor.  The embroiderer was like “you wanna do what to the suit?”

“This is a fantastically expensive suit that we have Nascar’d up.  The embroidery does cost more than the suit, which is incredible: I think the suit’s about a grand.  All the embroidery is about $1400- $1500 per suit.”

How many do you have?

This is version 4.0

(beat, with another quizical look)

Well, cause each time we had different sponsors come on.  So this’s the final version.

Mane and Tail?  What’s the deal?!

“Come on.  It’s the greatest shampoo you’ll ever use.  It’s a shampoo for you And your horse.”

(beat) laughs

“It’s crazy, right?  Can I say one thing?  I’ve never seen a bald horse.”

…That (brand) just tripped me out.

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