Support Street Fighting Man

There's a lot of stories about Detroit in the news today. Mostly bad, some good. They often talk about the broad implications of certain policies expected to go into effect, or policies that have damaged the city. Frequently, reporters and journalists discuss the decreasing population and the crime that is rampant in the city.

There are other stories that come from the suburbs, where non-Detroiters (like myself) talk about how they can renovate the city, make the public transportation better, revive the economy of Detroit. Without paying for city taxes, I'm sure...

But rarely do I see a story like the one that Andrew James is trying to tell with his next documentary project, Street Fighting Man. It's a personal tale of a group of citizens that decide to take the city's problems in their own hands. They are Detroiters. They are making their city a better place.

These are the kind of stories that people need to see, and as a suburbanite that wants to try to do what's best to help the city, I believe that one of the important things that people can do is help support filmmakers like James show what happens in Detroit today on the personal level. More and more in Documentary film, there is a sense that "personal is political." While this might not be Andrew James intent, so many many issues can and most likely will be at play in Street Fighting Man, and the delicacy with which James handles the subjects (some footage is shown at the kickstarter site as incentive to back the film) is in many ways beautiful. It's tragic, but beautiful nonetheless.

This is why I've decided to pledge $30 to back Andrew James' Street Fighting Man. As a Michigander, I want to see this film be made. I ask you to please check out the preview of the film and see if you too can support the film.

How to Fold a Flag: Adjusting to Civilian Life

Some films are difficult to watch. Some topics are difficult to discuss. Despite this, it is often those topics... films... issues... that are necessary to discuss. If there is one topic today that isn't discussed enough, it's the issue of how our country takes care of veterans coming home from wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.

Perhaps this is why so few people were in attendance for the screening of "How to Fold a Flag," the most interesting and compelling documentary that I watched at TCFF. The film is from Michael Tucker and Petra Epperlein, directors of another documentary called "Gunner Palace." "How to Fold a Flag" is actually a sequel to their "Palace," an incredibly raw film that followed American soldiers in the 2/3 field artillery during their tour in the Iraq war. In "How to Fold," these troops have returned home, having to pick up where they left off.

Of course they've changed, but these four people that are followed throughout the film attempt to return to a sense of normal, whatever that may be. Javorn Drummond is going to college, living in his barely livable home. Stuart Wilf is working at a convenience store. Jon Powers is running for Congress. Michael Goss is wresting in an MMA circuit.

The four show a varied experience of adjusting to civilian life, something that our government does not really provide a service, or assistance, in adjusting to. Michael Goss tells the story of his suicidal tendencies and attempts to seek help. Wilf seems aimless, though somewhat content, but vocally aggravated by how some fellow veterans are handling their adjust to civilian life. Javorn talks humorously and intelligently about the issues of media coverage of the war and his feelings of unimportance, of lacking value in the America that he's returned to. Powers' portrayal is from a distance, clearly keeping focusing his energy entirely on an election that was toughly fought and eventually lost.

While their roads are vastly different, all of the people in this documentary share a common thread. Drummond, Powers, Wilf, and Goss are all looking for ways to come to terms and deal with the difficulties of war while attempting to find purpose in a country that has shipped them away and returned them home with nothing. How can we do this to people that put their lives on the line? Despite any issues about the purpose of any war, how can you ignore the pain of these people?

From my perspective, the issue of mental help is especially important. Still relatively taboo in mainstream US culture (See: parody of Ron Artest thank his therapist after winning the NBA championship.), the issue of depression, anxiety, and various other mental difficulties result from war are still under diagnosed, resulting in an even greater difficulty adjusting to civilian life. In the year 2010, I think it's about time that we realize our internal works include our mental workings, as well. For veterans and citizens alike, this film highlights the importances of seeking help.

If there is one issue that is unfortunately not addressed at in this film (as a veteran in the audience pointed out at the Q&A following the film), it is the issues that are specific to military women and veterans face at home and in the service. But this could quite possibly be due to the fact that the military is still largely viewed as a male-only institution. However, with articles like Nancy Gibbs essay published in Time magazine this past March, I feel like this issue will become more frequently discussed.

When looking at this documentary from a film standpoint, I cannot help but be in awe from time to time as Epperlein and Tucker craft some beautiful moments on film. Like "Gunner Palace," it seems that there is little manipulation or control of the situations in which they document; it appears that the people in the film are truly telling their story. As a young filmmaker, I find this to be quite a daunting thing. As a director, my want for control is endless. It takes real talented directors to be able to let their focus tell the story themselves. The best stories can.

In a film like "How to Fold a Flag," this is important. If we are ever going to talk about the issues of civilian adjust for veterans on a national level, we will need to understand, through the eyes of those that are experiencing difficulty, what needs to be done. This film is a touching work that argues this is quite a lot to be done.

Cleanflix: a Movie for Lovers of Film

I attended the Traverse City Film Festival last week, and I will be spending my first couple of posts on some films that I saw.

When the Festival came to an end, I knew immediately what film I had to talk about first and foremost. As a fan of film, and being a current film major, I could not help but become completely immersed with the film issues at play in the film Cleanflix. The film, written and directed by Andrew James and Joshua Ligairi, documents the film editing culture that grew rapidly in Utah. The film puts most of its focus on the entrepreneurs that began these businesses, but James and Ligairi ground the film in that belief that without the Mormon church, such a business would never exist.

The film comments least on the issues of the Mormon church and censorship in accordance with obedience (If you want a serious film about the issues of the Mormon church, 8: The Mormon Proposition is a pretty emotional comment.). In the beginning, the film shows that a living Mormon prophet in the '80's banned R-rated films (why trust those outside of the Mormon church to decide what is good?) for providing viewers with "suggestive material" that would dirty the mind forever.

The major issues at play, however, are issues that can be found outside of the Mormon church. Many claim that Hollywood has some kind of "agenda" that involves desensitizing us all to sex and violence, especially sex. For those that are religious, violence and sex are often scary, sinful things. Businesses, like the incredibly popular Clean flicks, wanted to eliminate all of the "nasty" junk from those movies. What's the harm?

Of course, there are numerous problems with this, legally and philosophically. These businesses "cleansed" the films of violence and sex without the permission of anyone involved with the film. Many directors, producers, and a large portion of Hollywood, were absolutely upset about the concept at the core of these businesses. Legally, they had a just reason for it: these businesses were violating copyright.

There is also the issue of morality, and who gets to decide what is "good." To directors, these businesses tarnished their vision. Films like Fight Club, for example, have violence for what some may call a moral comment. Without the violence, there is no comment, and the film is altered in a way that it doesn't represent its original self. But, if one community, mormon or otherwise, believes that sex and violence has no place in their community, should they be able to alter art, or is this completely selfish? Do they have an argument?

The film makes a point of stating that the larger issue here is sexual imagery. Anything even commenting on biological fact that a penis and a vagina exist is often edited out. One particular college professor proposes an important question. If we aren't to learn about sex somewhere, where will our mind take us?

Politically, this is the most interesting issue in the film to me. If people are worried about sexual and violent images in film, do they not already preexist in their head? Is it better to completely ignore these visuals and fetishize them, or is it better to see and come to terms? Is not seeing mean not having a conversation? If conversations aren't being had, then how is sex and violence understood? In this sense, "R-Rated" films are important.

Of course, there is one other glaring issue in Cleanflix that I have not discussed, and it is the issue of digital technology. Without digital technology, businesses like Clean Flicks could have never been possible. James and Ligairi did a Q&A after the film and touched on the effect of digital technology. Both directors disagree with what the businesses did, selling illegal copies of films (and the way in which the film is presented is very much an anti-editing space. The design often reminds the viewer of Cold War, Red Scare era artwork.), but Ligairi believes that with time, businesses like Clean Flicks are inevitable. As digital technology grows and grows, what will ownership mean? In the music industry, the term already means very little when it comes to records and MP3s. Perhaps no medium is safe, and it is quite possible that film is next.

As you can see, I've thought a lot about this film. It was very well done, and quite complex, as the issues at play were unraveling during their shooting of the film. Cleanflix's prime focus is Daniel Thompson, and his downfall and criminal issues begin unfolding during production of the movie in a entertaining and surprising way.

From a filmmaker's viewpoint, I think this will become a very important film to movie lovers and movie makers alike. I cannot stop thinking about what the future holds for unknowns like myself. How much control can we have? Will there be such a thing as creative control? That, coupled with the issue of what is "suggestive" keeps haunting me. Seeing the film, I found it odd that the logos of many of these companies were suggestive in and of themselves. The Clean Flicks logo is a winking face. It's as if they themselves are selling sexuality!

Not to mention that while the film does not shame the Mormon church, the profitable entity in this case is the Mormon community. Who were the people that edited these films for the Mormon community? Surely it wasn't practicing Mormons; that'd be sinful. So, are people outside of the Mormon community profiting off these sensitive people? Is that moral?

The questions never end, and they are certainly worth asking. If you love film, you need to seek out Cleanflix.