Oblivion (2013)

Apocalypse Now and Then

There is something about end of world dramas that prompts writers to bang the pulpit and throw in some religion with the special effects. “Oblivion”, the latest Tom Cruise apocalyptic sci-fi thriller, is no exception. “The Book of Revelation” reigns large in the American psyche; even thetans aren’t immune. For those not familiar with the good book: it has a happy ending. The good guys win the big fight. “Oblivion” begins with the interesting notion that we won the battle; but lost the earth. Cruise is a commander of a ‘mop up‘ operation where the remaining resources of a doomed earth are being salvaged for a new human colony on one of Jupiter’s moons. You see during the raging conflict, started by invaders from outer space, the earth’s moon was destroyed sending a torrent of earthquakes and planet-spanning tidal waves.   Tom and his wife/partner/work colleague oversea a guard station in which they protect the machines that are sucking up the earth’s remaining water from remnants of the invaders who are still lurking in the scarred remnants of the beloved mother planet. Tom actually does the heavy lifting of repairing the protector drones while wifey talks to headquarters. They live in a Philippe Starck apartment/satellite/airport hub (with see-through pool) which hovers over the clouds.  Am I going to fast? It’s all explained in 10 minutes of voiceover replete with Tom looking serious and wifey appearing busy/anxious.  Narration is usually an escape hatch for directors who are overwhelmed with the story. Even though Joseph Kosinski is the author, the film is no exception. The creative team was shooting for Romans 12:21, “Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good”. Unfortunately the verse that comes to mind is Ecclesiastes 1:9, “There is nothing new under the sun”.

As a certified non-celebrity I share the fantasy that the superstars of our universe have the world at the palm of their hand. Tom Cruise could hire almost anyone to write and direct his projects. Why would he turn to Joseph Kosinski? Well.... he’s smart.  He is an assistant professor in architecture with a degree from Columbia. His venture into filmmaking began by combining his proficiency in 3D modeling with his passion for graphic novels. His work, “Oblivion”, was published by Radical Comics - a cutting edge multi-media studio. This resume answers puzzling questions about two things that stood out from the tedious familiarity: the helicopter/spaceship and the post-modernist apartment.  These two elements were great and seemed to possess something the story, set-design, script all lacked.... a fresh sense of purpose.  In these small objects Kosinki really showed his stuff.  If only the director could channel the energy he spent on those two things to the script, there might have been something to watch.  Otherwise we are bogged down in an endless stream of sci-fi cliches which seemed to permeate the setting as well as the script. Kubrick’s evil ‘HAL’ makes a grand appearance. The ‘Star Wars” death star is reconfigured. The drones seem to have borrowed their look from R2D2. Since “Return of the Planet of the Apes” it has been de rigueur to include the ruins of the Statue of Liberty amongst earth’s debris.  The story itself has the smell of old Star Trek episodes relating to cloning, eco-peril, the dangers of technology..... Kosinski is, no doubt, brilliant but his creative strength seems limited to visual acuity rather than movie based narrative storytelling. I have not viewed the graphic novel but it is VITAL to understand that, whatever its strengths, film is a different medium. Picture books, no matter how dynamic, are NOT motion pictures.

Perhaps the best film created by architect/designers is the short classic “Powers of Ten” by the legendary couple Charles and Ray Eames. (the film can be seen at ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0fKBhvDjuy0 ). This is the text which appears on screen after the title itself: A FILM DEALING WITH THE RELATIVE SIZE OF THINGS IN THE UNIVERSE AND THE EFFECT OF ADDING ANOTHER ZERO. This awkwardly phrased summary is in stark contrast to the wonderfully concise and clear ‘narrative’ which explains ‘size’ on a grand scale.  Once again it hints at deficiencies in otherwise gifted designers.  Brevity is lacking in the skill-set. Now imagine if these fine minds had come together to tackles grand issues of religion and philosophy.... One can clearly see that this would lead to “Oblivion”. It is vital that ‘special’ people choose the right material. Ironically the formula is counter-intuitive: the academic firepower of the director should be in inverse proportion to the size of the topic at hand in order to yield the grander statement. Kosinki gift lends itself to exquisite work on a small scale rather than worldly themes of universal import. 

The hero of “Oblivion” exhibits a ‘back to the garden’ desire. It’s the same prelapsarian conflict shown in countless sci-fi epics (e.g. “Avatar”, “Star Trek Insurrection”, “Star Wars”).   It would have been interesting if Kosinki had focused exclusively on this theme. The cumbersome complicated ‘conspiracy’ and clumsy set up, inhibited all hope of bringing the characters to life. In this vein perhaps a re-make of “Silent Running is in order. This 1972 space drama focuses on an astronaut who mutinies against his crew in order to save the last remaining plants. It certainly more interesting than the original “Tron” which the suits decided to revise with Kosinki at the helm.  (I couldn’t bring myself to see his version as I was haunted by the boredom of the original.)  “Oblivion” also brought to mind Danny Boyle’s “Sunshine” - a very interesting, much ignored, space thriller. Boyle had the good sense to devise an exquisitely simple premise in order to focus on what we all really want to see: development of the characters within the movie. “Sunshine” boils down to a small crew manning a ship on a salvation mission to fire a device into the waning sun in order to save earth from freezing. The SIMPLE mission becomes intensely dynamic as the struggles of the various individuals are paramount. Contrast this with the convoluted ‘set up’ of “Oblivion”. Despite the careful ten minute voice over the audience is left scrutinizing the storyline IN ADDITION to the drama. The many ‘reveals’ feel more akin to solving medium difficult crossword puzzles rather than character epiphanies.  There is no room for romance or heroics when the focus is on plotline GPS.

“Oblivion” was the NUMBER ONE box office movie this past weekend.  What is a ‘successful’ film? It brought to mind Cary Grant.  Some people felt he should raise the bar on his choice of material citing his starring in a comedy set on a submarine. He pointed out it garnered him a golden globe nomination. In addition it was within the top five top grossing films that year.  History has proven him correct in that adjusted for inflation this was the most financially successful work of his career. (http://cogerson.hubpages.com/hub/Cary-Grant-Box-Office-Grosses-from-his-best-and-worst-movies)  That same year he made another film which earned less money and failed to earn him any awards.  In hindsight it’s hard to imagine anyone considering “North by Northwest” less ‘successful’ than “Operation Petticoat”.... but this is the problem with merely counting figures and citing accolades.  It is something Tom Cruise should consider as he is at a point in his career which is akin to a second US Presidential term: the legacy is the thing. 

Given the last few outings it is time to re-assess Tom’s script selection process. Kudos to him for making a daring political statement in “Lions for Lambs”; although the result artistically fell short.     ( http://thebettertruth.blogspot.com/2007/11/lions-for-lamb-by-bores-heres-joke-for.html ) He also deserves praise for playing against type in  “Magnolia”, “ Tropic Thunder” and “Rock of Ages”. The “Mission Impossible” franchise can pay the rent, so what are we to make of: “Jack Reacher”, “Knight and Day”, “Valkyrie”.... and now "Oblivion"? Once again from my view in 'little people' oblivion it seems self evident that: a. something is wrong and b. it is fixable. Note to Tom: raise bar on material selection. Don’t be fooled by degrees. Don’t hire a cook to do your gardening. Don’t hire an architect to be a writer/director. Why not give Danny Boyle a call. Whether or not these turkeys hit; it doesn’t do much for your standing. Remember Romans 2:6 : (God) “will repay each person according to what they have done.” You’re audiences don’t want to end up on the submarine in “Operation Petticoat”;  they'd rather be flying North on NorthWest Airlines.

The Place Beyond the Pines (2012)

Fathers and Sons

The local art-house movie theater was showing a Ryan Gosling picture called ‘The Place Beyond the Pines’. The poster had a blurb from entertainment weekly saying ‘riveting crime drama’. I took the bait. The opening sequence was promising - a steady cam shot of our anti-hero, carnival-attraction, motorcycle-stunt man.... sucking up the sleazy circus milieu while cooly acknowledging the adulation of star-struck teenagers. Within the first 8 minutes there were two references to Scorsese’s films: the entrance to the Copacabana in ‘Goodfellas’ and the introduction of the tattooed De Niro in ‘Cape Fear’. They worked well. No dialogue but the strut and small touches were worth reams of carefully written description .  The audience was going on a ride with someone who knew what they were doing.  The long single-shot gave the feeling of a director, Derek Cianfrance, in sync with a movie star. Gosling and him had worked previously on a dark romance, ‘Blue Valentine‘, which I have not seen.  According to the press he has been making films since he was 13 and became a darling of Sundance with his debut feature in 1998. This movie starts well. The love interest is quickly introduced with some pithy exposition:  He had disappeared. She was disappointed. She now has a man. He’s leaving. He comes back. He finds out a dark secret. Things are building.  So far so good.  Then... well...  To quote Auden, “the center did not hold”... or perhaps more precisely: there was no center to hold.... just a long series of events stretching into the horizon.

After an hour and a half the main storyline came to a climatic finish.  I expected to see ‘the end’ credits, but instead was greeted with a black cue card which read:  “15 Years Later”.  Oh boy - if I was on a plane I would have flagged down a steward for some extra pillows or a drink.  Actually the feeling was more akin to believing you were on a jet and suddenly realizing you’re on a train. This isn’t the 40 minute air shuttle from NY to Boston but the 4 1/2 hour Amtrak special.  A new feature emerges with a new star, Bradley Cooper, who is a law school educated cop trying to prove something to his politically savvy father who is a Judge.  All interesting enough - and it was connected to the original motorcycle-man storyline. In fact, we have an almost biblical sort of epic where the sins of the father’s are visited on the next generation. In this case the two sons of the protagonists shine. Emory Cohen and Dane DeHaan capture that narcissistic innocent victimhood of high school loners. They are the repulsive, attractive types your daughter might like... but you wouldn’t. Ray Liotta, of Copa fame, actually is in the second half reprising his role as a corrupt heavy - almost borrowing De Niro’s sneer.  Eva Mendes shows an amazing range as she morphs from the sexy love struck heroine to a tragic middle aged mother of a difficult teenager.  Cianfrance has a touch with actors as everyone rose to the occasion. In addition the film is marked by numerous high speed chase scenes which are carefully executed in a ‘reality TV’ manner - it works. So far so good... strong acting, solid direction, interesting (albeit epic) script, well executed action sequences..... Ironically the weakness of this work lies in a battle between the director and himself.

Cianfrance is one of three people who share a writing credit for “The PlaceBeyond the Pines”.  It is is an earnest effort at a grand statement but the director’s talents are more geared towards a more fluid and concise style of cinema.  This film is alive in ‘the inbetween’. The chases, the walks, the struts, the party scenes.... have a natural flair that is lacking in the many plot driven expository dialogue moments... and yes clocking in at 140 minutes - there are plenty of those.  The real question is why should it take over two hours to tell this story (or stories)? Great performers have the ability to replace spoken dialogue with gesture, glimpse, movement...  Cianfrance has a talented cast and might have place more trust in their simple presence.  The sequence involving Gosling’s partner in crime, Ben Mendelsohn, is a poster child for this film’s need for concision.  Gosling’s initial encounter with this back-woods mechanic is the narrative Achilles‘ heal. The are INSTANT best-friends-forever. The one day “come and move in with me... I’ll give you a job and a place to live” challenges credulity.  It is strange that the writing team failed to create a more plausible root of their friendship.  It is perfectly plausible that they might have become acquainted on a previous visit. Gosling’s fling with Mendes shows that he spent time off the carnival campus.  Simply having him ride through the woods and arrive at the mechanic’s camp would have trimmed ten minutes of ‘getting to know you’ exposition. In the second half Gosling’s son returns to the cabin and introduces himself to Mendelsohn.  Once again there is a great deal of walking around the grounds with dialogue explaining Gosling’s prowess as a rider and loyalty as a friend. This all culminates in the son being given his father’s riding glasses as a remembrance. It would have been more powerful if the whole sequence was condensed. DeHaan delivering the news of his progeny and Mendelsohn handing him the glasses while speaking “he was a great rider”.  If the scene had ended here it would have made the son’s wearing the glasses in the next sequence all the more poignant. The discussions and verbal exposition UNDERCUT the son’s search for his father, despite the professionalism of the performers. The actors and scene wear ALREADY clearly delineated - all that was required was a SIMPLE gesture.  It would be possible to recreate the entire film in this manner and come up with an exceptionally strong 95 minute feature. Even the title, “The Place Beyond the Pines”, seems stretched into forget-ability. I challenge anyone to have this easily roll off their tongue after not having thought about the film for a few minutes. Why not ‘Beyond the Pines’ or ‘Robber and Cop’.  The overall effect of over-painting the portrait is to blur the heart-wrenching struggles. We have over two hours of diffuse pathos rather than a crisp penetrating tale of two generations.


‘The Place Beyond the Pines’ thesis revolves around how the sons cope with absent fathers while defining their own identities.    It is interesting to note that Cianfrance has been making films for nearly two decades and studied at University under the pioneer of American Avant-Garde filmmaker, Stan Brakhage.  His professor’s body of work consists of many silent, emotionally jarring, quick-cut meditations on topics usually reserved for philosophers rather than movie-makers.  As a paradigm example one of his major early films, ‘Sirius Remembered’, is a 6 minute silent frenetic film documenting the slow disintegration of the family dog in an open field. How does it compare to Cianfrance’s latest work:  Brakhage made a short, 16 mm silent black and white portrait of a rotting pet: “The Place Beyond the Pines” is a multi-million dollar 35mm color sync sound feature based on a multi-generational linear storyline documenting the trials two families joined by tragedy. In a sense they are mirror images wrestling with transcendental themes of family and time. Cainfrance’s total rejection of the experimental sensibility is extreme to the point of being a throw-back to a old fashioned style of storytelling. Unfortunately the spoken word fails to be his strong suit. I have not seen his earlier work but I viewed a clip from his debut feature ‘Brother Tied’. Once again Cianfrance knows his cinema history as the moment pays homage to violent scenes from features past. The key thing is this moment was SILENT and riveting. This director’s strength will shine when he comes to terms with his film ‘fathers’. One sees him as a figure closely linked to the two struggling ‘sons’ portrayed in the work. He is trying to find his style amidst the ghosts of his predecessors. Ironically his embrace of an anti-Brakhage conventionality served his cause about as well as the cop/DA’s son diving into the gangsta drug life.  Cianfrance should utilize non-chronological fluidity and abstraction in favor of stiff, stage-like narrative. It brought to mind a story I once heard about William Faulkner. His third novel, where he created Yoknapatawpha county and it’s brooding set of characters, is written in a traditional linear style. Interestingly it is an epic family tale in which the protagonist dies the day of his son’s birth. The publisher cut 40,000 words and changed the title. The critics failed to be impressed.  Faukner’s reaction was to reject the meddling publishers and the tiresome critics and to trust his own judgement. He went back to Yoknapatawpha but this time he wrote: ‘The Sound and Fury’.  Cianfrance knows the medium.  He has delivered good results. His crew trusts him. His actors trust him. It’s time for him to trust himself. Maybe even return to a place beyond the Pines... but do it his way. I suspect it will be shorter, harder to follow; but more fun to watch.

Pincus at the Green Mountain Film Festival (2013)

The Lesson of the Master

Ed Pincus,  the ground-breaking documentary filmmaker, sat in front of the screen at the Green Mountain Film Festival in Montpelier Vermont. He wore a blue surgical mask to protect him from germs as he was recently diagnosed with a terminal illness. The news hasn’t dampened his candor. “I used to think films were stupid” was his answer to a question about why he switched from studying Philosophy of Science  and dabbling in still photography.  His shift occurred while viewing “Showman” a ‘direct cinema’ film by the pioneering Maysles’ brothers. Once again Ed’s honesty: “I saw a couple of minutes of it... it wasn’t very good... but it showed me the possibilities”. Ed was referring to the technological changes which shaped the dynamism of sync sound film.  It is difficult in an age of effortless smart phone generated sound images to understand the complete absence of a fast-moving, personal cinema. One key breakthrough came from an MIT colleague.  Prior to Richard Leacock the film camera and tape-recorder needed to be linked by a cable in order to ensure the motors were running ‘in sync’. By having each device SEPARATELY regulated by a quartz crystal he broke the awkward Siamese twin relationship between the cameraman and the recordist.  The flood gates were opened in the late 50s and early 60s and a slew of bright young men picked up their equipment and exposed unknown corners of the globe, in addition to your own private world.  The style was dubbed ‘direct cinema’ in the United States and ‘cinema verite’ (literally ‘truth film’) in Europe. Most of the giants in the new rarefied field had graduate degrees in various subjects: Gardener and Roche were anthropologists, Leacock had a degree in physics, Wiseman is a Yale Law graduate,  Albert Maysles  taught psychology.  Ed, as a student of philosophy, was interested in his OWN truth; with a bias towards hard science and a disdain for soft sentimentality.  This POV has a cost. No built in audiences viewing objective truth or sanctioned views of the exotic. The work is ‘merely’ personal.  The Wikipedia laundry list of ‘filmmakers associated with the Cinema Verite style” fails to mention Pincus. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cinema_verite )  This would probably provoke a wry smile from Ed.  He knows he is his own man. He has shaped most of contemporary cinema but outside the low earth orbit of documentary film, he is anonymous.

Ed’s epiphany about film’s possibilities coincided with the apex of the civil rights struggle. Ed decided to see for himself. He went to the heart of the Jim Crow South to create both “Black Natchez” and “Panola”. Taking film cameras to Natchez Missippi in 1965 was not for the faint of heart. One year before and 3 hours away by car, two other young New Yorkers, Andrew Goodman and Michael Schwerner, came to fatally understand the entrenched ways of segregated Mississippi. Questioning white authority in the Deep South was a death sentence as illustrated by these martyrs.   The Green Mountain film festival audience asked about the risk and Ed characteristically gave a throw-away line: “the black community protected us”.  One could have spent many hours answering: “from what?”. Ed barely gave it a mention. He was focused on larger questions. If the American Civil Rights battle can be fairly framed as a struggle against white oppressor vs. the disempowered black community, Ed took this paradigm and stood it on its head. “Black Natchez” is an internecine struggle between established black businessmen and younger African American citizens who were weighing violent action.  Whereas most storytellers focused on the immediate struggle of black vs. white, Ed turned his gaze on what was going on WITHIN the black community. Pincus chooses to ponder: “What makes us play our roles?”  It’s interesting in that it almost circumvents questions of “authenticity”. His films fail to garner the same tiresome debates about truth that plague many of his colleagues (including Gardener, Wiseman, Rouch, Maysles...) It’s almost a given that this is Ed’s take on things; which creates a more ‘real’ environment.  This stems once again from Pincus’ initial ambivalence about the film medium and his interest in both philosophy and science. Ed’s ‘unsettling truth’ roars to life in his companion film “Panola”.  This work was shot at the same time as “Black Natchez” but Ed spoke of it being impossible in integrate into the that story.


The eponymous film “Panola” features the relative that noone can publicly admit is a relation. This portrait transcends the intricacies of the civil rights battle of that moment. It reminded me of an early sequence in the Ralph Ellison novel “The Invisible Man” where a callow eager black student gives a tour of a black neighborhood to an important white trustee of the black college. It earns the promising student an expulsion a life-lesson in truth-telling. We first see Panola in dark glasses giving an impassioned sermon at a funeral for a local soldier killed in Vietnam. The man has a commanding presence, a powerful build and a heartfelt impassioned voice born of the school of hard knocks.  There is a blast at a collective rage as the Vietnamese are blameless for his death.  One expects the heartfelt anti-war rhetoric but Panola delivers something more troubling: we’re ALL responsible. His sunglasses are removed there is a sense that all is not exactly as it should be. The camera pans down to what one thinks is the grave but turns out to be a young child rolling around in a sleeping bag.  Is this an actual funeral? Is Panola really a preacher? Is he sober?  There is a great deal of dignity in his pronouncements; yet he has a showmanship born of a huckster.   The conundrum builds as we see his home.  He lives amongst a never-ending stream of children and ramshackle shacks. He speaks to his vocations: a tree surgeon, a preacher and half a dozen other things.  He seems to have the build of someone who works outside. He scales a tree with the ease of someone half his age (he’s in his mid-30s). The talk about politics revs into a disjointed narrative that manages to merge Black Nationalism and Jim Crow’s cardinal precept: respect for whitey.  It doesn’t make sense but that fails to dampen Panola’s verve.   There is a visit to a barbershop.. something about wanting to appear as Malcolm X Jr. (sports a crudely written T-shirt identifying himself as such)... he is greeted as a familiar fixture... patiently loved by the neighborhood ... but in small quantities.... it helps if he’s sober... or maybe it doesn’t. This proud preacher, whom we met ten minutes previous, is now being chastised by one of his toddlers because he fails to earn money. It sounds odd that this speech would come from someone who appeared no more than six years old, but one grows up fast in black Natchez. Panola's defense is incomprehensible due to his inebriation. Another child reveals that alcohol leads the preacher/tree surgeon to beat his wife... who is or isn’t  around and is or isn’t pregnant.  The final encounter shows that Ed has won his complete trust and is granted a tour of his living quarters.  Panola, who previously extolled the virtues of white benevolence, becomes more agitated and angry as he points to the hovel where everyone piles into bed next to an inoperable refrigerator and broken furniture. The interior harkens back to photographs taken two decades previous by Walker Evans in “Let Us Now Praise Famous Men”.  In the whirlwind of Panola’s tirade one catches a momentary glimpse of Ed or his sound man in a mirror. I wanted to tap him on the shoulder and ask ‘who IS this guy?’.... to which the confident  response would be: ‘I was gonna ask you the same question’.  Here is the bedrock of the Pincus sensibility - his films pose questions instead of giving answers. It is impossible to place Panola in the context of being merely a symbol of white oppression or black poverty. Lesser filmmakers would feel the need to contextualize him or weight the merits or political costs of his various screeds.  There was a former student of Ed’s who was present at the screening who mentioned that many of his classmates would do spontaneous imitations of Panola.  This is certainly a tribute to the charisma of the central character, but the former professor should also be noted.  Ed stopped teaching at MIT decades ago; and yet a group of former students made the trek to view the film and share stories.

In the discussion Ed stood by Leacock’s axiom “film what you love”.  How does this square with Panola? The key is understanding that Leacock himself was from the English upper class; not known for warm and fuzzy emotional outpouring. ‘Love’ should be distinct from ‘affection’. Ed has a tremendous amount of passion for people in equal measure to his disdain for prudishness and politeness that masks an underlying reality.  The evening of the screening there were numerous clips of his other works which show an oeuvre that is damningly frank.   The unsettling intra-family squabbles of “Black Natchez” goes against the portrait of a unified black movement in the Jim Crow South. In addition the morally ambiguous fabulist, Panola, is someone that everyone would wish didn’t exist. Ed places him front and center. The Q and A continued the sense of a revolutionary perspective: there has been a re-imagining of the civil rights struggle to highlight the non-violence. His view, born of actual experience on the front lines, was that MLK needed Malcolm; or at least the threat of militant resistance in order to succeed.  After Mississippi came a film in San Francisco in 1967. Ed has a penchant for going where the action is and seeing for himself. Ed, once again, deconstructs the accepted notions of the period. Revolution might have been in the air but on screen we see the familiar recapitulation of the established order. “One Step Away” has a clip of a man and woman holding hands on a bed while a baby lies nearby.  There is no overt sexual activity but given their physicality they appear to be lovers or in some way carnally intimate. Another woman comes in and sits on the bed with them. At this point the background radio starts playing James Brown’s “This is a Man’s World”. The jilted spouse assumes a hunched tragic slouch.... so much for our notions of ‘the summer of love’. In a sense Pincus’ career is built on HIS truth.   Ed is his own man with his own vision and it was only natural that his magnum opus would be a film about... himself.

“Diaries” premise is simple: film your life. The inspiration was a realization that he, unlike most people, had the means and opportunity to create a film about ‘an average guy’.  Average might be a relative term as not everyone was a professor who helped shape MIT’s film program. Ed, despite his erudite manner and encyclopedic knowledge on a variety of subjects, sees himself as merely ‘a guy from Brooklyn’. It appears strange in our present era of  ubiquitous self documenting to have a recognized filmmaker think it important to make an epic ‘home movie’.  The strangeness only highlights “Diaries” visionary status. Ed was absolutely correct... if not him... who? To give you an understanding of cost: to shoot, process and edit 12 minutes of sync sound color film in 1970 would equal the price of a contemporary professional grade video camera.  Who else, but Ed, would be in a position to shoot 35 hours of film over five years with no obvious purpose or conventional narrative. It is akin to the skit in Seinfeld when Jerry pitches a show to the suits at the network about “nothing”.  Fortunately for us the people granting the grants had enough faith in Ed.  There is absolutely no doubt that NOONE had attempted anything close to this project at the time of its inception.  Kudos the those brave souls giving ‘the green light’.

Given Ed’s track record of tearing down myths, the truths of “Diaries” are both disquieting and inspiring. This ain’t your grandfather’s home movie - although, in actual fact, IT IS. The first of the two clips shown at the festival center around Ed’s two children and their friends playing freeze tag. I had seen the entire film almost three decades ago and this moment was still clearly in my mind. The older sister convinces the younger brother that in order for everyone to play the game he must take a turn at being “it”.  The young boy is inconsolable. The sister comforts him and prevails. Ed bravely includes a small snippet in which the daughter says “it’s easier with the camera off”.  It is not surprising that during the Q and A the response to the question of “what do your children think of the film?” was answered by: “my son is proud of it.... my daughter is ambivalent”.  One can see the issues of “the public eye vs. right to privacy”  in the contemporary debate about Google Glasses or the limits of ‘sharing’ on the internet.  In the next sequence Pincus presses even further.  It is a strident undoing of conventional mores regarding family and the boundaries of documentary intimacy. In this section Ed’s wife, Jane, has a frank conversation about the state of their marriage. If this talk was being overheard at a neighboring table at a restaurant our lesser selves would strain to hear every salacious detail.  It has elements of the grist-mill of ‘reality TV’ which pushes highly charged emotional snippets to garner ratings. The public radio equivalent would be ‘StoryCorps’. The difference is that this moment in ‘Dairies’ is merely a note in a much larger song. Ed and Jane survived the turbulence but is vital to understand that Ed’s inclusion of this painful personal moment is merely ONE color in a larger palette.  Life, as revealed by Pincus, is far more than the sum of it’s most excruciating moments - although it is of paramount importance never to pretend we exist without heartbreaking strife. Ironically the legion of artists of have followed in his path have only half learned the lesson. There is nothing wrong with letting your most harrowing private moments open for public view, as long as one includes the larger truth.

After “Diaries” Ed spent over two decades away from film.  When asked about his hiatus his response centered around a serious threat directed at his family by one of the circle of acquaintances from the film.  This individual was suffering from severe mental illness which created paranoid delusions including one in which Ed’s infant son was seen as a mortal threat to the world at large.  The entire family took refuge in Vermont and he became a noted flower farmer.  He also pursued the martial art of Aikido.  Although Ed’s explanation makes perfect sense... it seems, given the man and the body of work, to be incomplete.  Ed’s desire to be ‘invisible’ also stems from the cost of being unsparingly honest in his art. Oscar Wilde once said: “If you want to tell people the truth, make them laugh, otherwise they'll kill you.”  As a corollary it should be said that, for a master of his craft, baring one’s artistic soul is equally dangerous. His reticence about diving into another film stems from taking a long breath after bearing his soul.  Some artists (e.g. Ralph Ellison) never recover from the tremendous drain of glimpsing God. It might be the visually equivalent of spending a few hours staring directly at the sun. Fortunately for us, Ed has returned... this time with a collaborator; Lucia Small.

The last segment shown at the festival was a clip from “Axe in the Attic”; a personal look at the diaspora from the disaster of Hurricane Katrina.  Lucia, who was born near the time ‘Panola‘ was made, shares Ed’s unsparing honesty.  She has also dared to turn the camera on her family. “Genius” is a portrait of her father. This man, although a white educated architect without noticeable substance abuse issues, share’s Panola’s enigmatic loathsomeness and like-ability. Lucia is not in the business of easy answers either - once again: it’s more about questions. Most people with a father who is a vain, cruel, charismatic egomaniac might place them safely in an attic and pretend.... but then again most people might not rise to the challenge of returning to the South with Ed Pincus and a camera. Their collaboration reveals that Ed’s post “Diaries” vision is intact. Once again he travels to the national scene of the crime and makes his own conclusions.  The clip that is shown shows Ed head to head with one of Katrina’s victims.  Once again the narrative of easy answers is undercut by the fact that this gentleman fails to play the traditional role of the righteous oppressed .  He is an angry drunk and unable to cope with his helplessness. He decides to lash out. Ed, the Vermont outsider with a camera, is the perfect target.  At this point the recording device is handed to Lucia who films Ed’s graceful exit. Although the opponent was a good two decades younger, Ed showed no fear. One should note that one of the central tenets of Aikido is to avoid physically injuring your attacker. This clip illustrates the film is as much about Ed and Lucia as the victims of the disaster. This might seem inappropriate but, once again, Ed (and Lucia) see themselves as stand-ins for average people wanting to understand this catastrophe.  One might think that their struggles or reactions would fail to equal the pathos of the situation... but Ed believes the opposite.  All the ‘advocacy’ films and works that speak to objectivity are dishonest in that they mask who is presenting ‘the truth’. Ed and Lucia, and their opinions and struggles are as much a part of the movie as all the heartbreaking stories of deprivation and bureaucratic bumbling. Ed and Lucia are educated, white people with diverse views of the tragedy. They do not hide behind the camera. The phrase “Axe in the Attic” comes from a story told by a resident who keeps the tool upstairs so he can chop through the roof if the water rises quickly.  This is a metaphor for Ed’s weltanschauung: no matter how comfortable the house appears - make sure there is an axe in the attic to smash through the roof and save yourself and everyone else.

In closing Ed and Lucia spoke about their next project, ominously titled: ‘Elephant in the Room’.  It focuses on Ed’s illness and Lucia’s loss of two close friends within a six week period.  One might think this is a film about facing death. Knowing their shared vision it will be about uncomfortable unspoken truths. In the end our lives are a delicate balance of restrained politeness matched against the unpredictable rawness of the world at large. We become adept at avoiding inconvenient truths. Even amongst artists, the designated maverick class, many strive for acceptance; even if  their work seems strident.  Ed’s films show someone who has chosen to follow his truth rather than the comfort of universal praise. As he sat in the theater politely answering questions behind the blue surgical mask it was hard to square Ed’s demeanor as an avuncular old man with the burning radicalness of his legacy. This gravelly- voiced , long retired, MIT prof led the charge into today’s no-emotional boundaries limitless personal media frenzy.  It is not a question of being ‘good’ or ‘bad’ - he simply had the vision of what was coming combined with  the courage to pursue his artistic vision.

There was an awkward but revealing moment during the presentation when someone asked a question about who chose the clips that were shown. Ed said Lucia had made the decisions. The significance lies in the fact that Ed’s wife of nearly five decades stood in the audience. The segment from ‘Diaries” exposed a particularly raw segment of their relationship centered around questions of commitment. Given Ed’s current health and Jane’s steadfast support  it must have been emotionally harrowing to re-live that particular moment. It brought to mind the line in the Joni Mitchell song ‘Case of You’: ‘stay with him if you can; but be prepared to bleed’.   At the close of the evening Lucia said “Ed, you chose the clips”.  I believe her. I also feel good that Ed didn’t want to own having made the choice.  Artistically it was the right segment to show, despite it’s uncomfortable content. It was also ‘right’ for him to deny selecting the clip in deference to his family. “Elephant in the Room” will do doubt have equally beautiful/painful moments. 

Ralph Ellison’s anti-hero ends up alone in a room illuminated by rows and rows of illegally charged lights - basking in his isolation. Ellison himself endured decades of lonely questions about his stillborn second novel. Ed emerged from his battle with art with a strong body of work and a wonderful loving family. I’m sure they (and others who follow Ed’s films) anticipate the debut of ‘Elephant in the Room’.   It won’t be easy to watch.. be prepared to bleed. Ed, however, knows that this pain is simply a part of a big picture. As Ellison says in “Invisible Man”: “I was never more hated than when I tried to be honest. Or when, even as just now I've tried to articulate exactly what I felt to be the truth. No one was satisfied”.  People might not happy and will no doubt bleed; but back to Ellison: “Life is to be lived, not controlled; and humanity is won by continuing to play in face of certain defeat.” Once again its not about acceptance or acclaim; but a universal understanding of what is important. It is harder with the camera on.... but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t film... just show it all.