Showing posts with label documentary. Show all posts
Showing posts with label documentary. Show all posts

Friday, August 10, 2012

Three Pacifist Women Warriors

We Women Warriors is Playing in Theaters

Three Pacifist Women Warriors

(from brinkzine.com 8/11/12)

wewomenwarriorsposter.jpg
'The beauty of exceptional documentaries that are set outside the United States is that we can catch a glimpse of people's lives that are entirely different from our own. An extreme example can be found in Nicole Karsin's eye-opening We Women Warriors, which opened Friday at the IFC in New York City and will have its Los Angeles premiere on August 24. The gallant human rights activist and print journalist turned filmmaker put herself in harm's way to tell the story of three Colombian women whose lives we can barely comprehend. Flor Ilva Trochez (on right, in march photo), Doris Puchana (on left), and Ludis Rodriguez (in center) are three courageous native women who have long been, as the films notes state, "caught in the crossfire of Colombia's warfare and who use nonviolent resistance to defend their people's survival." (Ludis, whose husband was murdered, even spent a year in jail on trumped up charges during the three years of filming.) They have assumed leadership roles in their respective tribes (the Nasa, the Awa, the Kankuamo), which, like many of the 102 indigenous tribes, face extinction because of the never-ending internal conflict between government forces, paramilitary groups, and insurgents. The conflict is spurred by the drug trade. Below is an interview I did this week with the personable Karsin about her exceptional debut documentary:
Danny Peary: Tell me your background.
Nicole Karsin: I was born and raised in Los Angeles but went to college in New York. I went to Sarah Lawrence and then grad school at Columbia. Prior to getting my masters in journalism at Columbia, I had lived in southern Mexico and done human rights work. I went to Chiapas in 1995, a year after the Zapatista uprising, through a non-governmental organization, Global Exchange, to support the human rights movement and be an observer in the Zapatista communities that were being threatened by the Mexican army. Through that work I became involved with and became an adviser to various artisan cooperatives in the Mayan women's communities. That inspired me to go to journalism school because I saw how poorly that whole conflict was being covered. I saw that being on the ground was oh so different from what was being reported. So when I went to journalism school I knew I wanted to cover conflicts in Latin America.
DP: What's your ethnicity?
NK: I'm half Ukranian Jewish, a quarter Irish, and a quarter Sicilian.
DP: So how did you initially become interested in Latino human rights issues?
NK: Los Angeles has a large Latino culture. Because of my looks--Sicilian is what comes out most I believe--people in Los Angeles just assumed I spoke Spanish, but I didn't till years later. But I always cared about women's rights and human rights. When I was coming of age, civil wars in Central America were taking place and Los Angeles received a huge influx of people from Guatemala, El Salvador, and Nicaragua. I watched the Iran-Contra scandal unfold but I was just a little too young to fully understand it. I knew there were injustices occurring but I didnt fully understand the dynamics, the how and why. When I was at Sarah Lawrence, I had a bit of an existential crisis my sophomore year and wanted to be out in the world and to see what was happening. So I took a semester off and went to Nicaragua because I had this curiosity to learn what was really going on there. I was nineteen and that's when I started to learn to speak Spanish. This was 1992. My first week in Managua was the five hundredth anniversary of the Spanish conquest. I was fortunate to be there at such a historic moment and I'm sure that affected me. When I went there were no college programs, no credits to be received. I was a volunteer through a program run by Father Miguel d'Escoto, who also went to Colombia Journalism School and was a Maryknoll missionary involved with the Sandinista government. He had an organization that helped support people in Nicaragua. I lived in the home of a very poor family in what was then called Barrio Carlos Marx. It was very post-Revolutionary--Violeta Chamorro had been in power for two years--and it was a real eye-opener.
DP: You were a journalist but you ended up telling this story in your documentary.
NK: It was a natural progression. I was doing print, radio, and photography and felt digital filmmaking is a combination of those. I bought a camera in 2004 and took it with me when I did interviews. I never had any formal training, I just had some colleagues give me pointers here and there. Film was more visceral and while it's true that Colombia is so complex it's also beautiful. The people are beautiful, the culture is beautiful and film was a more impactful way of conveying a story.
DP: From the beginning, were you thinking you'd do a story about these three women?
NK: No. At the beginning I wanted to do a film about how the indigenous people are caught in the crossfire, and how mostly their stance is nonviolent. But when I set out on my first pre-production, investigative trips to Colombia to find my stories and characters, it was immediately the women I was drawn to--I'm sure it was because I'm a woman.
DP: Did you meet Flor, Doris, and Ludis separately where they live?
NK: Yes.
DP: An emotional moment for me was seeing the three women together late in the film. Was that emotional for you?
NK: It was emotional. Logistically, it was a difficult shoot. There was a march that moved from Cauca to Bogata. Because the three women are leaders they have commitments and there are a lot of situations that are unfolding all the time. It didn't work out that they could start the march together. Landmines had exploded and people were killed in Doris's region and she had to leave early, and Flor was having a crisis in her region and had to come late. So I had those three women together for only 24 hours.
DP: Did they know each other before then?
NK: No.
wewomenwarriorsmarch.jpg (L-R) Doris, Ludis, and Flor
DP: Did you think that it would be great if you got them together?
NK: Kind of. I had applied for a grant with ITVF. When you didn't receive funding, they would give you a feedback session if you requested one. I had a feedback session, and one of their head people asked me, "Do your three stories intersect?" In all honesty, I hadnt even thought of it. Then I thought it would be something they could do of their own accord if they had the resources. I definitely invited them on the march. I thought about putting in a card saying that I had invited them, because I wanted to be totally transparent, but that would have thrown me into the narrative when I really didn't want to be there. That was something I grappled with most in terms of the narrative.
DP: Did they bond naturally and not need to tell each other what they'd experienced because they knew they all experienced the same awful things?
NK: No, actually they had experienced similar things but not the same things. They could understand each other, and each other's suffering and pain, but they had experienced different manifestations of the conflict.
DP: One of the women expresses one of your film's major themes: When you suffer, you feel the suffering of others.
NK: That was Doris, who mother was killed in a car accident when she was young. Yeah, they can feel the others suffering for sure.
DP: Were they proud of being women who are leaders or do they just take it for granted?
NK: Definitely they dont take it for granted. It's hard work and it's still taboo in the native community. There aren't many women leaders. Flor was elected and during the elections the indigenous radio stations would make jokes about there being a female candidate. These women are obviously very self-assured and have conviction of what they want to do, but it's still not easy.
DP: Everybody in America knows something about what's going on in Colombia, but what don't we know because, as you say, our journalism hasn't been good enough at telling the story?
NK: There's a lot. There's a very complicated, convoluted conflict, which is why newspaper editors shy away from it. The most important things for U.S. citizens to know is that our tax dollars are supporting military and paramilitary forces that are responsible for widespread and systematic human rights violations; and the amount of military aid that we give to Colombia far exceeds any social aid. Inadvertently, our tax dollars are responsible for the severity of the human rights crisis in Colombia, and we can change that.
DP: In your movie, Doris says that the people would be happy with the United States if it were giving money to the right causes. Is most of our money supposedly going to fight the drug trade?
NK: Until 2002, U.S. aid to Colombia was only under the guise of fighting the war on drugs, but that year it expanded to include an anti-insurgent mission. That changed things. Unfortunately, it hasn't mattered what administration we've had.
DP: And what about the effect on Colombia of Free Trade?
DK: The Free Trade Agreement was finally passed but multinational corporations have been for a very long time and have historically paid off whatever armed fighters are in the region at that time. The way it usually plays out is that the paramilitary organizations are supported by Coca Cola or all the different multinational corporations so that they can either clear out the Compatinos, which is by massacres and displacements, or protect their interests in other ways. It usually has to do with the land.
DP: Your film takes place in rural areas, where the livelihood of the poor indigenous people is tied to growing coca. Is it an issue that the people would like the government to support their growing other crops?
wewomenwarriorsnicolecamera.jpg Nicole Karsin films in Cauca
NK: Yes. They can only support themselves now by growing coca. There are no alternatives. There is no infrastructure whatsoever. The centerpiece of Plan Colombia, which began in 2000 under Bill Clinton, is fumigations with herbicides and thats been in effect for twelve years and hasnt much affected the cocaine trade. But it kills the environment and harms your health. I got very sick while reporting in those regions. Plan Colombia was 80% military aid, which included the fumigations, and 20% social aid. The social aid was kind of a joke. They'd give the Compatinos cows in the hope they'd stop growing coca, but the cows would die from the fumigation. There was no thought put into it and no real desire to help the people. It was all very superficial.
DP: Most of your filming was done between 2006 and 2009 so people might say, that's three years ago, a long time ago.
NK: I was back there a year ago to do pickups and nothing had changed. In fact the story that enfolds in Flor's region with the police barracks and the military occupation actually just flared up. In early July there was major combat between the army and the FARC and entire communities were displaced. And the Nasa people you see in the film have in their self-autonomous process made resolution stating that they want their territories free of armed combatants. That includes all sides--the paramilitary, the guerilla, and the state forces. So in the past few weeks they went around trying to remove army posts and find FARC fighters and destroy their weapons and flogthem in public assemblies.
DP: Flogging?
NK: They have constitutional rights to self-governance, and that is why they have the right to punish the FARC fighters who are part of the Nasa tribe. It's part of the culture.
DP: The Colombia media is portrayed in your film as presenting the company line. In terms of the indigenous people, are they more sympathetic today?
NK: The mainstream media, not so much. Two weeks ago the Nasa people went to an army post that was put up on a sacred, ceremonial site. Flor told me that they told the soldiers to leave their land. They were very cordial in negotiations with the army and as a sign of good will removed all their encampments. Colombian news was there but never showed this nonviolent actions. The army still refused to leave and the indigenous people were fed up and started removing them physically. There were a few shots fired by the army and it got tense. That part was covered by national TV! I saw the national TV reports that said that removing the army posts could be against Colombian law. There was no mention of what the Constitution protects or of international humanitarian law. After this news coverage that further stigmatized the indigenous people, Flor went to the city where her daughter is going to college and the owner of her apartment told her daughter to move out in two days. That was the backlash of how the news was covered.
DP: We see Flor's tribe dismantle barracks in your film while soldiers look on. Were they part of the tribe?
NK: Maybe a couple here and there, but generally not.
DP: Did you know beforehand about the dismantling of the barracks by the people in Flor's town and decide to go film it?
NK: I had planned on going there to join a human rights verification mission as part of my pre-production, searching for characters and finding my angle to tell the story. I got there two or three days after the 11-year-old boy had been killed, so it just happened to coincide. The human rights mission was in the region for only two days and when it left I decided to stay on. I stayed for three weeks and filmed the process.
WeWomenWarriorsNicolephoto.jpg Nicole Karsin, photo by DP
DP: There's a scene where you're filming Flor relaxing on a hillside. A government soldier comes upon you. A scary moment?
NK: A scary moment. Definitely. It wasn't on camera but strangely enough it was diffused because one of the policemen in the group was staying in the same house we were in so he knew we were really journalists. I wonder what would have happened had he not been staying in that house with us.
DP: Nothing happens but you include that scene--perhaps to show how quickly and randomly there can be danger.
NK: Also I was trying to show that despite the Nasa's small victory in removing the barracks their land was still militarized and they were still in danger.
DP: You did know about the march in advance in order to invite your three subjects to participate.
NK: Yes.
DP: You say that Ludis traveled for the march for indigenous rights. What are these rights specifically?
NK: In 1991 there was a new Colombian constitution, and the groups in Flor's region in particular were very involved. They achieved that the Constitution recognize Colombia as a plural ethnic society, which is huge in the Americas, and basically granted the indigenous people autonomy. On paper it's probably the best indigenous rights in the Americas; but it's an issue is how it is in practice. Indigenous people in Flor's region were practicing self-governance when they made the resolution saying they wanted the region to be free of armed fighters. That's where autonomy and the rule of state law clash.
DP: Does autonomy by the people deal specifically with the control of land?
NK: It's more. It's self-governance, which includes land issues. It also is about having respect for their form of punishment, which includes flogging. That's their culture. The land and self-governance are probably the two biggest ways to define indigenous rights. But now the big issue is--and it's not just in Flor's region, though that,s the best example of it--having the right to not be part of the armed conflict. It's their right under Colombian law, international humanitarian law, and other international conventions. The way the Colombian armed forces have installed their barracks and posts throughout indigenous town and surrounding areas puts the indigenous peoples at risk; it makes them possible collateral damage. That's what they are protesting.
DP: In one segment you have what amounts to be a montage of widows. It's powerful.
NK (emotional): Yeah. I love all them. I tried to call Ludis this morning but she wasn't available but I spoke to her friend Suzana, who is one of the other widows in the film. In a way I wanted it to be like a choir. This is what happens when there is systematic violence. Getting them to share their stories and speak out like that wasn't easy. I had been filming for a very long time and had known them, but it was still very difficult for them to open up and share or speak about on camera. Or just speak about it, period.
DP: It is stated several times by women that the kids are still traumatized years after their fathers' deaths. But three years have past and these kids are three years older and approaching being young men. Are the women worrying about these kids eventually becoming targets too? It seems that men are in jeopardy in this environment. Is that a concern?
NK: There are a lot of civilians who are killed randomly because of the conflict. But hopefully if they don't join one of those groups then they won't have to be part of the violence. Ludis has made some hard decisions to withhold information from her sons so they wont try to avenge their father's death at a later date. wewomenwarriorsludis.jpgLudis spends a year in prison on trumped up charges.
DP: There doesn't seem to be any good options there for young men.
NK: No. One extreme example was Alvaro Uribe, who was president for two terms (2002-2010). He was the governor of Antioquia when his father was killed by the FARC and as a result his administration was very bloody. He was someone who was constantly seeking revenge and that brought about even more bloodshed.
DP: The widows in Ludis's group weave. Talk about the weaving metaphor regarding the bonding of these women and all tribes.
NK: It's also female solidarity. But in Ludis's case it's also about survival. They weave to feed their kids. It's also a native tradition--women have been weaving for five centuries so it's a way of maintaining the culture.
DP: Do they make any real money?
NK: There are intermediaries who exploit the women by selling what they weave and keeping most of the profits.
DP: What three things would you like to happen in Colombia?
NK: I would like the Colombian government to respect the indigenous peoples rights and remove the army from their territories as they have requested. I would like the insurgent forces to leave as well. I would like U.S. policy to drastically improve in regards to respecting human rights. And I hope that the women's groups in Colombia --those in the film and other ones--gain the support they need and the training of the skills they need to start businesses to be autonomous and provide for themselves and their families.
DP: What about the drug trade?
NK: I think drugs should be decriminalized because there's so much violence. The government, politicians, and members of the armed forces are all involved in the drug trade. It's a pretext for groups to keep pumping the herbicide and the military-industrial complex to keep selling arms.
DP: Talk about your film in terms of universality. This situatio can be happening in a lot of places.
NK: I think so. Peoples all over the world are caught between armed fighters. The situation in Colombia has gone on for so long. The fact that these women still have hope and still stand for nonviolence and still are working to improve the world is a positive message that I believe can inspire many people.

Saturday, July 7, 2012

Hitting for Dollars

See Ballplayer: Pelotero in Theaters

Hitting for Dollars

(from brinkzine.com 7/7/12)
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You may have seen in the papers that the Mets recently signed a 16-year-old shortstop named German Ahmed Rosario from the Dominican Republic for a $1.7M signing bonus. So many teens are signed on the island at that age--Dominicans comprise an astounding 10% of MLB players--that you may have just taken it in stride, but if you were at all curious about the background of Rosario and other Dominican youths who strive for large bonuses from major league teams to escape poverty, then I recommend a new documentary called Ballplayer: Pelotero. Directed by Ross Finkel, Trevor Martin, and Jonathan Paley, executive produced by Red Sox manager Bobby Valentine (once the manager of the Mets), and narrated by John Leguizamo, it follows the troubled signings of two teenage star prospects--Miguel Angel Sano (smiling, with glove) and Jean Carlos Batista (fielding and hitting tire)--a couple of years back, and its gritty, up-close,
 behind-the-scenes approach reveals a world we havent seen before.
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This film will also serve as a welcome complement to the excellent 2008 indie narrative Sugar, about a prized Dominican Republic pitcher who has trouble adjusting to minor league ball in Iowa after he receives his bonus. Ballplayer: Pelotero was an official selection of the Hamptons International Film Festival, Santa Barbara International Film Festival, Miami International Film Festival, Cleveland Film Festival, and Portland International Film Festival. It opens this Friday in New York and L.A. courtesy of Strand Releasing. You can see it here at the Maysles Cinema (www.mayslesinstitute.org) and the Quad Cinema. There will be a Q&A with co-directors Finkel and Martin after the 7:30pm screening on the 14th at the Maysles Cinema at 343 Malcolm X Blvd / Lenox Ave (Between 127th and 128th Streets) Contact: email: cinema@mayslesinstitute.org phone: (212)582-6050. 
The following the DIRECTORS STATEMENT from Ross Finkel, Trevor Martin and Jonathan Paley:The central question behind Pelotero was a simple one: Why are Dominicans so good at baseball? The tiny island nation is consistently overrepresented in the Major Leagues, and as America's pastime continues to globalize, every year brings a fresh crop of young Dominican Peloteros to the top levels of the game. We had a romantic image of these players humble beginnings etched in our minds; poor kids chasing rolled up socks through dusty streets as motorbikes whizzed by. However, that vision of street ball felt disconnected to another romantic idea of Dominican baseball; Big Papi, Sammy Sosa, or Robinson Cano slowly trotting around the bases under the bright lights and cheering fans of a big league ballpark. How does one lead to the other? And what is the story in between the two?
ballplayerjeancarlos.jpg 
Ballplayertire.jpgJean Carolos Batista
When an opportunity arose to secure some grant money in college to produce a documentary, we decided to travel to the Dominican Republic and do our best to connect the dots. That research trip allowed us to survey the country, build relationships and get a feel for what was really going on. More importantly though,we left the island infected with the spirit, passion, and zealousness of Dominican baseball.
When we came back a year later, this time for the long haul, we discovered that our simple question had a very complex answer -- one that had more to do with the hallways of Major League offices than with any dusty street. Where we had expected to find the Wild West of Baseball that we had read so much about, we instead discovered a highly nuanced system struggling with its own identity.
The Dominican system is one of stark contradictions. It's institutionalized yet independent. A free market, yet frequently manipulated. It is a system where integrity and corruption are interchangeable tactics in the pursuit of the country's top players. Indeed, the forces that make Dominican players so successful are the same forces that make the Dominican system so dangerous for MLB. Most importantly, for all these reasons, or perhaps in spite of them, the Dominican system is extremely effective.
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Pelotero sheds light on some of the most pressing issues regarding the export of Dominican baseball players to the US: age and identity fraud, exploitation, and the opaque role Major League Baseball plays in determining the fates of young players and their families. However, at heart, the film is a story about two gifted young men with a shared dream, doing their best to navigate a mercenary world with the hopes, fears and burdens of their entire families riding on their success or failure.

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Just So We Know, Rosie Perez Is So Boricua

Find  "Yo Soy Boricua, Pa'que Tu Lo Sepas!" on Video

Just So We Know, Rosie Perez Is So Boricua

(from TimesSquare.com 8/22/06)

Dating back to "Do the Right Thing" and "White Men Can't Jump," Rosie Perez has usually played women who talk fast and furiously and with such wit that the men around them often overlook the intelligence behind their words. Her equally endearing offscreen persona has been similar, with her wisdom being coupled with a strong and visible social consciousness.
And all that is certainly on display in Perez's deeply personal and ambitious documentary, "Yo Soy Boricua, Pa'que Tu Lo Sepas!"
Her enlightening exploration of the Puerto Rican experience and often unhappy history both here and on the island, debuts on IFC Monday, June 12, 9 pm ET/10 pm PT, one day after the 2006 National Puerto Rican Day Parade, on Fifth Avenue from 44th to 86th Street. This free-wheeling interview with Rosie Perez took place a few days before both events.Q: At the Tribeca Film Festival, you spoke about how you originally planned to make a narrative film about the systematic sterilization of women in Puerto Rico several decades ago. How did your project eventually evolve into this documentary?
Rosie Perez:
I wanted to do a motion picture narrative piece on the sterilization of Puerto Rican women but the people that I went to, kept telling me it wasn't true.
I was like, "What do you mean it isn't true?"

"Well, it didn't happen."
I said, "What do you mean it didn't happen?"
"Well, the women went for sterilization voluntarily."
And I was like, Oh my God, I couldn't believe they were saying this, and I said, "Well, then why were there sterilization clinics placed in factories? Well?"
And their response was, "Uh, uh…" And I said, "If major corporations were placing sterilization clinics in factories, and the factories were hiring mostly women, you don't think that there's something funny about that?"
I pointed out that there was a legislative act, 136, that said sterilization should be practiced on the poor and the malfunctioned, people who are not able to raise children and educate them in a proper manner. That government legislative act passed.
"There's nothing funny about that, is there?"
"Uh, uh…"
I showed them footage of Puerto Rican women who had been sterilized, and them saying "I didn't know what was happening to me. I didn't understand the word 'sterilized.' I thought it could be reversed, and I would try to have children later--but they said I was sterile and couldn't change it. Why didn't they tell me that?"
Or these women would say, "I went in to the hospital to give birth to a child, and after birth, I realized I got sterilized, and I never agreed to it. But then they said I did agree to it. And they said, well you have five kids already, so you should stop anyway." And I said to these people, "Those things did happen."
Nobody wanted to make the movie, and I just couldn't believe it. And so I just kept pressing on and doing other projects, but it was always on the back of my mind. I called my agent and said, "I got it. I'm going to prove it. I'm going to spell it out and I'm going to tell our whole history. I'm going to show how political policy can affect people. And show that with all that we went through, we were still here. And I'm going to wrap it around with people's personal stories."

ImageQ: Were you amazed by how little people know about this period of history and Puerto Rico?
RP:
In the documentary I say that when I was a little girl, people would ask, "What are you? What's a Puerto Rican? Where's Puerto Rico?" That was constant. So I wasn't amazed that people didn't know. What I was amazed about is why people didn't know. Even a large number of educated Puerto Rican Americans we interviewed did not know the history. It was like. "We went to Hunter College, and it's not taught there." It's not taught in the schools. So how can anybody know? Unless you take Puerto Rican studies in college, you're not going to know. Not even in Puerto Rico. Well, that's even further insulting, you know.

Q: Did you feel an obligation to make a documentary because you did know certain facts about Puerto Rican history?

RP: I felt an obligation even before I started producing. That was always the secret motivation for me to start producing: I wanted to get behind the scenes so that I could get enough experience, clout, and status to make movies that would speak to the Puerto Rican experience. I felt that in the early nineties. It was really weighing heavily on me and I think that is because I was "discovered."
I never really wanted to be an actress. I was going to college in Los Angeles and wanted to be a marine biologist. I thought I was going to be the female Jacques Cousteau and fight for the environment and stuff like that. The person that I was prior to Spike Lee was always a very socially conscience person. I was always that person. I felt like that part of me was slipping away, with the celebrity and all that stuff and I was like: How can I still stay in this industry, because I love it so much, and still be true to who I am?

Q: Perhaps you were distracted trying to establish your acting career. You've said in the past that after breaking through in "Do the Right Thing," you were typecast and only offered Latina roles.
RP: Yeah, so I didn't do those roles. I told my agent at the time to get me all the Jessica Lange  roles, and she laughed. I said, "If you keep laughing I am going to get me somebody else, for real." Then she got me "White Men Can't Jump." That part was supposed to be for an Irish-American woman.
Then my agent got me "Fearless,"  and that was originally was for an American-Asian woman and then Hollywood changed it to an Italian-American woman. I was the 85th person seen for that part. So I sat in that freaking hotel for three hours watching a parade of white girls going in and out of that room with Peter Weir and it was very intimidating and it was affecting my self-esteem in every possible way, because I'd think, "Oh, she is so cute," or "Oh, she is so skinny."
ImageEveryone thinks I just walk into a room like Jack Nicholson in "Batman," saying "Wait till they get a load of me!" But that wasn't it. I walked in the room and Peter says, "Would you like to sit down?" and I ran into the bathroom and stayed there for 20 minutes. 20 minutes!
Talk about breaking down some freaking doors, you know what I mean.
Anything in life that you really want, you just have to go for it. Sometimes I don't get the credit. I was like, "Wait a minute I didn't do that. I didn't play the maid. I didn't play the prostitute. I didn't play the cracked-out whore. Ok, I did that once."
I struggled and I pushed but I didn't want to do it in a whitewashed way. I wanted to have a different face there and to be honest I just didn't want to champion the rights for just Latin people, but for all people of color, including Asians who are even lower on the totem pole than us. I don't want to keep complaining because I'm not bitter, but let's make changes and let's keep it moving.

ImageQ: You avoid the subject of your acting career in your movie, but from the beginning, did you know you were going to go back and forth from Puerto Rican history and other people's stories to your own?
RP:
No, not my personal story. I always knew I was going to go back and forth between history and other people's personal stories. Because I was so touched by those women that were interviewed. I wasn't supposed to tell my personal story because I've always told the press it's off limits. I wanted everyone else to spill their guts, but I didn't want to be in it.
Liz Garbus  was my co-director and she and Rory Kennedy were my executive producers, and they ended up pregnant at the beginning of production. I couldn't believe it! And so, I'm going about doing directing and everything, and Rory said we had to get the narration down. I didn't feel like writing it and she goes, "Well, let's put you on tape."
So I would talk and talk and talk. And then I would start crying while I'm talking. Then I would talk and talk and talk, and then cry and talk and then, laugh and then talk. And my family was always around, and Rory called me in her office, and said. Listen, I feel that you need to be a character in the movie."
I said, "Oh hell no, oh, no. You're all hormonal because you're pregnant." But she's like, "If you wanna be a viable director and make this movie something special, you have to let go and just be in it." I think I told her off, but I finally gave in.

Rory and Liz. They were really protective. Liz was very, very respectful because I told her, "I am not ready to tell my whole story and I only want to tell the story that is specific to the documentary, and if anyone tries to push me further we're really going to have a problem."
She said, "I am not here doing an expose on you, and quite honestly, Rosie, those are not the kind of films I make." So it was great to have her there because she totally respected my privacy. And when one of the co-producers was pushing too much, she fired him. So that was great company to be in.

Q: How difficult was it to organize your film?
RP: I always knew how I wanted it. When I interviewed someone like Manny Diaz--he recently passed away, God rest his soul--I said, "Tell me about your childhood." He goes, "Are you doing a documentary on Puerto Rico?" And I said, "Yes, And I want to prove to people that Puerto Ricans have been here forever, despite what the movies have told us all."
And he goes "Okay." And then he would start telling a story and showing pictures and everything. I always knew it was going to be like that. The difficulty was explaining to everyone else how I wanted it to go. But once Liz and I got into the editing room together, it started to go so smoothly, it just started really like taking off. I was just surprised at how it came out much better than it was in my head.

Q: Was it hard to find archival footage to support what you knew happened on the island?
RP: It was really, really difficult and the production team at Moxie Firecracker Films was always calling me and asking, "Are you sure this happened?" And I said "Yes! Keep digging, keep digging, keep digging! I'll dig, too."
I was on the phone with the people at Hunter College and the people at the University of Puerto Rico saying you got to find me something. This wonderful woman named Blanca Velasquez was a professor and I'd drive her crazy with my requests, and she would send me piles of information and we just kept digging.
I wanted to include archival footage of the U.S. military teaching the Puerto Rican soldiers English. One of my relatives who served in WW1, told me he learned English when he enlisted in the army. 'Really?" "Yeah, I wanted to know how to say, 'He's shooting at you!' They taught us." That always stuck with me, so I go, "Let's find the footage on that."
And it was really, really difficult to find and to fact-check was even harder. Like for instance, the Agent Orange testing on Vieques Island. I remember Rory Kennedy  was like "Are you sure that happened?" And I said, "That's what I heard." And she said, "We are not putting that in unless we fact-check it."
Then they found that blow torch footage. But that kind of thing would keep me up at night. I worried that a story wasn't going to make it into the film because we couldn't fact-check it in time. Actually some parts didn't make it into the film because we just didn't have enough time and money to research it further to prove what we knew to be true.
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Q: We were you worried about leaving anything out that was important politically or culturally?
RP:
Yeah, Liz and I had many arguments in the editing room because there was so much more material that was supposed to go into the documentary than what came out. I kept saying, "We have to put this in and we have to put that in." And she'd say, "If we do that you're going to have a freakin' miniseries." And I said, "Oh let's do that!" She said, "We don't have the money, we have 90 minutes, Rosie. So pick and choose." And that was really hard. But it was great advice. The great thing about not trying to include everything is that it is inspiring other people to research those missing stories or go tell those stories themselves.
Q: In the movie, you learn about your own family.
RP:
I was discovering people I never met before. And I had thought I was going to tell my family about something that they didn't know. My cousins didn't know, but the other family was like "Oh yeah, we know that story. Your great, great grandfather, yeah, he was all over the island with the women. You probably have more half-brothers and half-sisters and half-cousins than you know about." When I told my family I was doing the documentary and I was coming down to Miami to interview them, they were like, "Oh, cousin so-and-so wants to be in it," and I'm asking, "Who's that?" Even after the documentary, I am still discovering family members. Thank God for the Internet, because I just found out I had a relative who used to fight for women's rights in the 1800's. And a relative who wrote a novel and a relative who was a well respected doctor on the island. I also found out that I have a cousin-in-law who's an actress, Julie Diaz. It's just been an incredible and fantastic journey, and I did not expect it.


Q: In the movie, one of the men you interviewed, your friend, writer/actor/dj Bobbito Garcia, says he was born in New York and learned English first. Do you think people within the Puerto Rican community are discriminated against because they don't speak Spanish?
RP: That definitely still happens. And I think that's just insecurity by Puerto Ricans who are fearful that the culture is slipping away. And what they don't understand is that it's not. I don't think that it's just a Puerto Rican thing. I think it's an American thing. When people immigrate to this country, a lot of parents with misguided intentions want their children to be assimilated so that they can be successful and not have to endure the same pain they endured. And as an adult, when I sat back and looked at it, I was like, "Wow, I guess my mother was really looking out for me. She didn't want me to go through what she did, so she said, 'You're going to speak English.'" When I talk to Puerto Ricans who chastise the non-Spanish speaking Puerto Ricans, I say, "You gotta stop. You're perpetuating a lot of negative shit that we shouldn't be doing. I mean, we have enough against us. They were never taught, so why don't you ask their parents about that, instead of judging them?"

Q: You have a section in your documentary on the Young Lords, who are really a part of New York history, and the socio-political history of the 60's that has often been overlooked. Do you have affection for them?
RP: I always had an affection because I remember my cousin Titi, God rest her soul. I remember the day when I was about five years old, when I was out with my aunt, right next to her, and she came barreling into the house one day. "Mami, mami, oh my God, you should have seen these Puerto Ricans. They're walking in the street, and they had these berets, and everything. And now they're on the TV on the news tonight. I told you! I told you!"
I remember that throughout the '70's, her dressing like a Young Lord. It was so funny. She had the beret, and the double-breasted, three-quarter leather jacket. And she thought she was so cute, and she was--I have to give it to her. And that's why I had great affection. She was always so fascinated by them, and I was fascinated by her. So I always remember that.

ImageQ: How long did it take to edit your movie?
RP:
Initially it took only two weeks to do a rough cut. I give the credit to Moxie Firecracker. They have a mini-editing bay in their offices, so while we were shooting we were downloading and cutting and snipping. It helped that I had such a concise outline already. So we knew what we were doing.
The parade is what changed the most in the documentary, because I thought there was too much of it in the initial cut. I said, "The parade is a symbol of all that we endured, but the movie's not about the parade." And then, after we handed in our final cut, I still wasn't happy with the positioning of the story of the parade and I had one day to re-edit. That's when I made the decision to bookend the documentary with the parade. So editing took a total of maybe three weeks.


Q: The parade is still important in your film because it shows the celebration of Puerto Rican pride.
RP: An ex-boyfriend of mine called me the other day. He hates that I'm saying this story. I say, "Would you shut up. I'm not saying your name at least." He called me up and said, "I hear you're doing the Puerto Rican Day Parade . I hear your people all the way over here in Brooklyn, all the way across the river. Y'all are so damn loud. What the hell are y'all so damn loud about? And I said, "Because we're proud."
He goes, "What the hell you guys got to be proud about? Ha, ha, ha."
I hung up on him. He's still my friend. You know, I can't blame him that he's stupid. I mean, he's cute, but he's not the brightest color in the rainbow.
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Q: How did you get Jimmy Smits involved as your narrator?
RP:
I was friends with Jimmy prior to the film. Actually, I met him years ago at a Puerto Rican Day Parade in New York, when he was the Grand Marshall and we've stayed friends ever since. We became closer when I started doing theater. We're both from Brooklyn.
I guess we speak the same language and stuff and we're both kind of political activists to some degree. Jimmy is really, really smart in regards to Puerto Rican history, so I knew that there would be no need for a lot of explaining. I knew he would totally get it. He said yes right away, so that was pretty amazing.
Q: Now that your film's made, do you feel an obligation to go out and talk to people and make presentations?
RP:
I was asked by Harvard and Northwestern to come speak in regards to this movie. I'm happy to speak, but I don't feel like its my obligation. I felt a burning responsibility to make this documentary, but beyond that, whatever happens happens. I feel like I did this, and there's so many other people that can continue the discussion besides myself. There are other people who could do justice to what they're asking me to talk about.


Q: In your film you are critical of how the United States has treated Puerto Rico historically, but it's still obvious in the movie that you're proud to be American.
RP: People are always asking me, "Are you going to retire to Puerto Rico?" I say I would love to retire to upstate New York. I love the United States and wouldn't want to live anywhere else. But my love for the United States doesn't always mean I like what it does.
I don't like the current administration, you know what I mean, but I still love our government system. I don't like a lot of the things that have been done to Puerto Rico, but I still love America. A lot of people are surprised that I am so patriotic. But what did bother me was that it should have been bigger news when the government ran out of money in Puerto Rico.
ImageThey'd say on television, "The government in Puerto Rico shut down. Our next story is…" Are you kidding? I remember when I first heard that, because my brother Tito actually called me a week before it shut down. He says, "You know the government's running out of money."
I said "what?" He goes, "They're laying off workers left and right." I said, "But its not on the news." He said, "You see how they do us." I was like, "Get outta here. This government is not going to run out of money. We're the United States of America." He goes, "We ain't."
And then it happened, and I was really angry that the news coverage wasn't more extensive. It really pissed me off, you know? It wasn't right. The Catholic Church had to step in to save the day. That's pathetic. We're spending so much money to liberate Iraq, and we can't take care of our own territory. What the hell's going on?
It's also insane that Puerto Ricans can't vote for United States president. If you're a state, you have the right to vote for the president. But we are a commonwealth, which is a U.S. territory, voluntarily, and the issue of autonomy is so great right now, especially with the collapse of the government.
In regard to whether I want statehood versus independence versus "as is" versus none of the above, I always feel that it's not my opinion because I don't live there and I don't pay the taxes. It's their problem and their issue.
Wen you go to Puerto Rico, it is a different situation. The poverty level is different, the pay level is different, everything is different down there, and they have to live under those conditions, so they should be the ones responsible for the decision of their status. But the issue of not being allowed to vote for president always has bothered me, because if you pay taxes and you can be drafted, and you are willing as a patriotic American to fight for your country and die for your country, then God-dang-it, at least be allowed to vote for President.

Puerto Ricans have fought in all of the wars, which isn't told in history. So in "Saving Private Ryan," where were the Puerto Ricans? You know, more than half of the men on the island fought in WW2. Puerto Ricans also fought in WW1. You never see that in the movies. "Gone With the Wind" drives me crazy, because Puerto Ricans were all over the South. Where do you think yams came from? Seriously, they did. And it was like, "Where the hell are the Puerto Ricans?"  To me it's infuriating, because my father and my uncle served in WWII and the Korean war and my uncle enlisted in Vietnam, because they love America that much. But they can't vote for president.
I still want to do the female-sterilization story. I also want to do films that have nothing to do with Puerto Rico. Like I said, I love this industry. It's a blessing. I love acting. I love directing. I love producing. I also love being on the stage. I want to take full advantage of all those areas as much as possible.                                                                                                                                                  Q: Are you going to do another play soon?
RP:
Oh, I'm hoping, I'm talking, I'm talking. It's Broadway, but I don't want to jinx it. Let's all keep our fingers crossed. I can't wait. And it's weird. Every time summer comes around, and the Tony's come around, I get that feeling "I wanna go back. I wanna go back" It's really a strong feeling in me.                   
Q: Do you have other social issues that you're passionate about, that are in your mind as of late?
RP:
Well, I have my AIDS activism. We protested in front of the UN yesterday. Got minimal news coverage, which is sad. Also, I still fight for children's rights and children's education. I have my own charity called
The Working Playground. I'm on the Board. I truly believe opportunity separates an underprivileged child from a privileged child. And so I always champion that, as well.Q: Finally, why are you so proud to be Puerto Rican?
RP:
I think the documentary speaks for itself. 'Cause that's why I made it. To answer that question. Hopefully, people who see it will be moved and inspired.

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Rosie Perez

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Is The World Before Her?

Playing in Film Festivals

Is The World Before Her?

(from brinkzine.com 5/23/12)
worldbeforehernishaderek.jpgNisha Pahuja and Derek Rogers
Ever since I saw Nisha Pahuja's endlessly enlightening The World Before Her a few days before it was selected Best Documentary at the recent Tribeca Film Festival, I have thought about it. I wonder what has happened to her two young, fascinating subjects since the acclaimed Canadian director turned off her cameras. I still care about Ruhi Singh, the epitome of the "modern" Indian woman who competes in the 2010 Miss India contest, and Prachi Trivedi (with finger raised), the angry, brilliant quasifeminist, whose potential for being a proponent for women's rights is being squashed, paradoxically, by the Hindu fundamentalism to which she devotes her life. From a place of ignorance, I also try to fathom the changing India and all its complexities. After the movie, which was produced by Pahuja and Cornelia Principe and executive produced by Ed Barreveld, was voted Best Canadian Feature at Hot Docs, Pahuja herself was mystified about why her film about these two young women in a far-way world "was striking a chord with people here." Here's a possible reason. On the surface it is only about two young non-celebrity women across the world who we'd never know of if not for the movie. It seems to be only about them and, as an extension, women in modern and not-so modern India. But my guess is that it is really about zillions of women all around the world and their similar issues, primarily their desire for freedom. Going further, it is about how India, their country and Pahuja's second country, relates to all of us, particularly as the most populated democracy in the world becomes more Westernized.
In the film's production notes, Pahuja (who won Gemini Awards for Bollywood Bound and the series Diamond Road) states: "I have been going to India now for nearly 15 years and the more time I spend there, the more I realize what India does best is teach. It teaches one to see that assumptions are never safe and nothing is simple. Sabira Merchant, one of the pageant voices in the film, says, 'There are two Indias.' I would say there are many Indias and they are doing battle with each other now, just as they always have been. The battle I chose to focus on is the battle between tradition and 'modernity,' fundamentalism and capitalism, and how it plays out on the bodies of women. In some ways what hangs in the balance is not just the future of women in this country but the very future of the country itself--for how can democracy flourish in a place so obsessed with sons it aborts 750,000 girls every year? Distressing. But I remind myself that profound change can only happen slowly and it is futile to hate or judge. Time is not the same the world over....India is at a very interesting crossroads and more and more, women are demanding to be heard. Sadly, just as they are staking their claim in this new country, so the violence and oppression against them continues to mount. As history has shown repeatedly, however, freedom has to be fought for and so, women are fighting." Near the end of the TFF, I did the following interview with the extremely personable and engaging Nisha Pahuja over breakfast. That night, I was delighted that her film won the festival's top documentary prize.
Danny Peary: I read that you live in Toronto. Are you known in the documentary community there?
Nisha Pahuja: Yes, Im part of the community. I live in Toronto but am there only about half the time. I go back the forth between Toronto and Bombay.
DP: Have you liked being at the Tribeca Film Festival?
NP: It's fantastic. I love being here, particularly since the Tribeca Film Institute helped the film financially. Gucci was partnered with it to support three films with women-centered issues, and ours was one. They actually approached us. In November 2009, we were invited to pitch the film at IDFA, the International Documentary Film Festival Amsterdam. Ryan Harrington, who is with the Institute, saw the pitch and invited us to submit the film.
DP: The pitch must have been much different from the final film.
NP: Yes, actually. The pitch was that we were going to follow girls through the Miss India pageant. The Durga Vahini fundamentalist camp that is in the film wasnt part of it.
DP: Is Durga Vahini known all over India?
NP: Durga is an Indian warrior goddess and Durga Vahini means essentially an Army of Durga. Its camps take place all over India and there are about three hundred girls who attend camp every year. Everyone knows about the male right-wing Hindu fundamentalist groups but very few know about the Durga Vahini. I found out from Prachi.
DP: So originally you had no thought of having a parallel story about a girl in the Hindu fundamentalist camp? NP: No, but the pitch did include the fundamentalists. We always had that angle as part of the film.
DP: Was "the angle" that Hindu fundamentalists are against the pageant?
NP: Yes. The fundamentalists were preparing to protest the pageant and we were going to follow that. They don't protest annually, just every few years, and it turned out that they didn't protest in 2010. So I looked elsewhere. I knew I had access to the beauty pageant in which Ruhi would be a contestant, but since I hadn't gained access yet to the camp, it wasn't part of my pitch. However, I had met Prachi.
worldbeforeherprachi.jpgPrachi Trivedi
DP: How did you meet her?
NP: Basically through the editor of a right-wing newspaper, whom I met through one of the bigwigs in the fundamentalist movement. I told him I wanted to talk to people on the ground, real foot soldiers who engaged in acts of violence and were willing to die for the cause. He introduced me to a number of young people. Prachi stood out.
DP: Where do Prachi and Ruhi live?
NP: Prachi lives in Aurangabad, which is where her camp also took place, though camps happen across India. Ruhi is from Jaipur, though I believe now she is living in Bombay.
DP: Among the minor characters in the beauty pageant scenes is Pooja Chopra, whose brave mother took her and left her husband, who wanted to kill their female baby. Your film basically sets up a parallel between Prachi and Ruhi, so was Pooja also part of your original concept? And where does her story come in thematically?
NP: I met Pooja in 2009 during a research trip. It was then that she told me about nearly being killed as a newborn. After she won the 2009 Miss India pageant I knew I had to follow her for a bit and have her as a minor character. The idea at that point was that I would focus on the 2010 pageant and we would meet Pooja organically through that storyline--often the winners of earlier pageants come in and meet the present batch of girls. So we would introduce her that way and then her trajectory would be: former winner who is on her way to becoming well known gives up her crown in 2010. We shot all that but we weren't able to raise the money to shoot the 2010 training camp and pageant so we weren't sure if we were going to be able to make Pooja work in the film. It was only after Prachi told me about being grateful that her father hadn't killed her at birth that I knew we had to get Pooja into the film, too, because thematically that is a moment when both worlds come together and in such a powerful way.
DP: For me the editing process, going back and forth between the two stories, would have been the most difficult part of making this film.
NP: It was. I work with a brilliant editor named Dave Kazala. It took months for us to look through and process all the footage. Then the film took shape in the editing room. We knew we wanted to parallel the two worlds but we structured the film so that there would be an intersection of the worlds. We knew a direct collision wasn't going to happen because there wasn't going to be a protest by fundamentalists of the pageant. So we couldn't build toward that physical collision. Instead we built toward an ideological collision of the two belief systems. That's how we structured the film. We decided that each time we went to one of the worlds, we would learn something else; and that the film would progressively grow darker and darker.
DP: You had a woman from each of those worlds in your film, which creates a pretty easy parallel, but did you in reality think they had parallel lives and dealt with some of the same issues?
NP: Without a doubt. They live in the same country, they share the space. The reality of India is the reality of India and they just happen to be living in these two parallel universes. The intersections are very clear. They're struggling with the same things as women. There's one scene I deeply regret I couldn't include. I am chatting with one of the girls in the fundamentalist camp and I ask her what she wants to be when she grows up. She answers, "An aeronautical engineer." I was blown away and ask her if she'll be able to do it, and she says, "Probably not because my parents want me to get married. I don't want to get married, I want to be an aeronautical engineer." I asked her why she didn't want to get married and she said beautifully in Hindi, "Because I want to carve my own identity in this world, I want to live my dreams. And I don't want to marry a man and be known because of him--I want him to be known because of me." I wish I could have kept it in because it makes you realize that all the women in this country just want the same thing, which is freedom. But all these things are being imposed on them.
DP: Prachi is Hindu, but what is Ruhi?
NP: Ruhi is Hindu, too. In fact about 80% of the people in India are Hindu, and certainly the girls in the pageant were. It's safe to assume that the majority of the girls in the pageant are religious--most people in India have a belief in God or a higher power and are religious---however, most are not fundamentalists.
DP: At the beginning of the film, the pageant is presented almost like a feminist, political alternative, an opportunity for women to achieve economic equality with men, but as we watch it unfold, we see that something is off.
NP: It was deliberate that we portrayed the pageant as being so beneficial to women at the beginning, but then we kind of destructed it. In both camps actually, we start off lightly and simply introduce the world. Each world appears to be one thing and then it becomes darker.
DP: There is a parallel drawn immediately when you introduce a beauty camp and a fundamentalist camp. I'd say there is an indoctrination process in both, but at least the contestants can leave after the pageant is over and not be under anyone's influence.
NP: Yeah, but even the pageant girls are indoctrinated in some sense. They're taught diction, they're taught how to speak in a certain way, they're taught how to walk in a certain way. Once the three winners are selected, they will actually do training with knives and forks. They'll learn etiquette and how to eat properly. They'll be polished for when they go on to international pageants. They do change through an indoctrination process, physically and in their thinking. There is also a change in the way they look at themselves and in their world view--they become more Westernized. A lot of these girls come from small towns and their families may be more liberal than Prachi's family, but they still come from relatively conservative environments.
DP: The contestants in the pageant initially seem to be independent thinkers, but then we see them follow all orders from pageant officials and almost totally conform. The one thing people reacted to at my screening was when during the middle of the pageant some of the contestants get Botox treatments because that's what the pageant doctor suggested. Were you surprised to hear people gasp?
NP: Yes! I wasnt sure if people were reacting because it was young women undergoing this treatment or because there was a bit of coercion. The women could have turned it down.
DP: It seems like there is a step-by-step process for the contestants and that one step is Botox. It's like in The Wizard of Oz when Dorothy gets the Hollywood treatment before she's allowed to meet the Wizard.
NP: Exactly. There was actually a girl who refused the Botox treatment, but most of them go through with it. They do it because the doctor comes on the second or third day of training and does a facial assessment and body assessment of each girl. He tells them what's perfect and imperfect,what they need, and where they're going to inject the Botox. It's incredible.
DP: For me there were a few scenes where they all look alike. It's not that they're Indian. I'll watch a beauty pageant of contestants from the Midwest and they all the look the same, too. I can see there are several contestants in the Miss India contest, like Ruhi and Ankita, who dont look at all alike really but when they're all together and made up and dressed similarly, they do all look alike.
NP: It's funny when Ruhi's parents are going, "Which one is she?" They can't tell them apart.
DP: Ankita was one of the three winners. I won't say how Ruhi did, but I thought she was the prettiest contestant.
NP: I'll tell her you said that. She'll be so happy. Shes lovely, isn't she? She has a very unconventional beauty.
worldbeforeherRuhibikini.jpg Ruhi Singh
DP: Are the losers totally disappointed or is it a positive experience?
NP: It's fantastic. Even if you don't win, you are given incredible visibility. That pageant is watched nearly a billion people around the world. There are a lot of people in the beauty and fashion industry and the film industry who watch the pageant to look at the women. Once you've had that kind of training from people who are the top of their fields, photographers and fashion designers all want to work with you. Bollywood is the peak, the goal of all the contestants.
DP: Ruhi has the beauty to do it.
NP: It's interesting you'd think that because in India she wouldnt be considered beautiful at all. She has a very unconventional thing going on and has an amazing personality so she's reality show material. She'd be seen as someone who would be great on TV. We shot the selection process when they had 120 girls and narrowed that down to 20. Some of the girls who were turned down knocked your socks off. I couldn't believe it. But they were too dark or weren't tall enough. Ruhi was told that her nose was too big. So she doesn't have a feminine enough nose to make it in Bollywood.
DP: You say that all the losers have a lot of options but isn't their confidence about their looks kind of destroyed? Especially since the doctor pointed out their flaws.
NP: Oh, yeah, it does affect them. It's devastating when they lose. Even when they're competing it's difficult for them because although there is a real camaraderie among the girls, they are always competing against and comparing themselves to each other. There was one girl named Shweta who was very smart and was constantly questioning what was going on. She refused the Botox, thinking, It's ridiculous, I'm twenty, I'm here because people think I'm beautiful, I don't need this. Her choices didnt affect her chances of winning. She was beautiful and smart. The judges have their own criteria. When you go into that environment you can pretty much tell who is going to win. I've predicted the winner every year from the first year to the year I shot this film.
DP: I won't give away who won the pageant but I thought she won because she told the judges in the question and answer part of the competition that young girls can set an example for mothers who didn't have opportunities. Was that the perfect answer?
NP: It was a great answer because it was delivered with real spontaneity. It seemed to come from her heart. She was very articulate.
DP: You show Prachi watching the pageant with her mother when the winner says that.
NP: I believe that both she and her mother would think about what was said. Prachi is a very interesting woman. In some ways she is a real feminist. Her mum clearly is a little afraid of her husband, Prachi's father, so I wonder if that statement moved her.
worldbeforehergun.jpg Graduation ceremony at Durga Vahini camp
 DP: Everybody responds to her so it's a huge shame that she has the wrong outlet for her thinking. She's being misdirected.
NP: Absolutely. I told her, "You're fighting for something that's oppressing you."
DP: Part of her seems to know that. She even says it in the movie.
NP: Yes, it was a heavy conversation. I thought it was a deeply sad moment for her. It was tough.
DP: She's fighting something or trying to break out of something, but she can't do it because her restrictive, fundamentalist father is ready to marry her off. If she went off to college, would that change her life?
NP: She is in college, though we didnt get into it. She's twenty-six and lives at home but she attends a local government-run law school near her house. She is around these other young people and it definitely has affected her level of confidence.
DP: I hope she's also affected by her classmates divergent views.
NP: I'd like to think that but every time I speak to her and ask her about her beliefs, it's clear that she hasn't changed and she's still working for the movement. So college doesn't seem to have impacted her belief system. I'm surprised. She's an incredible woman and I feel that if she'd been born in a different time and place or had a less complicated relationship with her dad she could channel her energy--which is so huge --into something positive and amazing.
DP: How did you feel about her father, who, too, is stuck in a culture?
NP: To be honest, I grew to really like him. I liked him because he has integrity and is a man of his word. I know that what he believes in is totally misguided and destructive and that he does have an ego, but he really is motivated by something bigger than himself. He has a particular vision and a love for India and he works tirelessly for what he feels is the betterment of his country. Some of the things he laments I can understand--like the Westernization of India. It's important to note that the fundamentalists aren't opposed to modernization--they want infrastructure, paved roads, better education, technology--but they reject the materialism and influence of Western culture that many in the middle class there are equating with modernity. I also empathize with Prachi's dad because as you say, he too is a product of this culture and his country's history.
DP: I was surprised that he admitted he beats Prachi.
NP: I already knew that from Prachi so I wasn't surprised, but that he admitted to me on camera that he beats her was extraordinary. I felt it spoke to the fact that he really trusted me. I spent so much time with him and her that things in their relationship didn't really surprise me, except for his heating up the iron bar to burn her foot. That was shocking, as was what she said, that he had a right to do it because he had let her live when she was born. It's so sad. Those moments were very difficult for me. With Prachi, at least I could be honest and react, which I did. As a filmmaker you have to let people say their peace, and then you respond.
DP: Prachi's father is conservative in that he states she won't be a woman until she is married and has a baby, but he doesn't distinguish between a male baby and a female baby and that is more progressive than are many fathers in India.
NP: I asked him if he wanted a son. Of course, he wanted a son, which is why he raised Prachi as a boy, but he told me that he and his wife decided that they were going to have only one child and that they were going to accept whatever gender that child was. They didn't keep trying until they had a son.
DP: Talk about your choice of title. I'm sure it has more than one meaning, perhaps that there is a modern India but there is a misconception that everything is modern and nothing is anti-modern. There's a bit of irony when you see the title and realize Prachi's future is limited. I think your title might have a question mark after it, but nobody wants a question mark.
NP: The title is many things. Her in the title refers to the women of course, but also to India. It's also the World Before India. Before has the common meaning--"here it is laid out for you"--and it also refers to the past, the world that existed before.
DP: In regard to your first meaning of Before, are you talking about opportunities the women have--which is what I think your film is about?
NP: Sure. The "world as it's laid out" for you is opportunities in the future. It's also that these opportunities are yours for the taking. The title came to me when I was writing the proposal and thought of an image. This whole beauty pageant industry came into prominence in 1994 when two Indian women won the Miss World and Miss Universe pageants. This launched pageantdom in India. Sushmita Sen, who was Miss India and then Miss Universe that year, was the one who really started it all. There is an image of her back then that I found on the internet. She was nineteen and stunning and just full of optimism. It's an amazing photograph of hope and life before this ingenue. The world was at her feet and that's where my title came from. And then the title took on other meanings, too.
DP: Do you think of your film as optimistic or cautionary or just a glimpse at what's going on with women in India today?
NP: I think it's a glimpse of what's going on. Ninety minutes can never be the whole picture, right? There are always so many other complexities and viewpoints. But I decided to focus very deliberately on these two choices, between modernity--so-called "modernity" actually--and tradition. Because they are fundamental choices. It really looks at how women are used to put forth two different ideas of India.
DP: What do you mean by "used?"
NP: Women have always been used to promote national identify.
DP: In the film's production notes, you questioned whether the girls in the pageant, who think they have all kinds of freedoms, may be "simply trading one set of shackles for another." You ask, "When so much goes into making us who and what we are, do we not have to question the very notion of freedom itself?" Are you saying that to have freedom without having a a social conscience or an understanding of the politics in the world is useless and dangerous?
NP: That makes sense. I looked at those women in my film and felt they were trapped. Both sets of women. I looked at Prachi's father and felt the same thing, because patriarchy is also a construct and all constructs define us and give us parameters. Rules are outlined for men and women. Men are victimized by being defined, although not to the same degree as women and they are the ones in power. Not all of them want to be in that position. That is another reason I didn't dislike Prachi's father. I felt he was a product of something--culture, history, the forces of the present day--that is so much bigger than him. I started to think how all of us are defined, no matter where we are, by things bigger than ourselves, that we can't control and sometimes can't see and recognize. So how do we define freedom? Are the women in the pageant freer than the fundamentalists or is it a different kind of imprisonment?
DP: I'm surprised that Prachi was allowed to go to college by her father. I wondered if she even had a cell phone.
NP: Oh, yeah. She's connected to the world; she's on Facebook, the whole bit.
DP: What would it be like if she and Ruhi were roommates?
NP (laughing): I think Ruhi would give her a makeover. That's how they'd start! Prachi would teach Ruhi how to defend herself. When I spent time with Prachi while doing research, I was amazed by the way she intimidated men. They'd run away, literally. There was once a group of men on the street and they all ran away. She's an imposing figure. She's about 5'7" and is stocky and powerful, with a booming voice. She scares people. She's gotten into so many fights, including knife fights at Hindu festivals. She carries a knife with her.
DP: Would Prachi try to indoctrinate a roommate?
NP: Oh, yeah. She tried to indoctrinate me! Constantly. One of her conditions for my shooing in the camp was that I had to sit through the lectures. But they were in Marathi and I don't speak it. So I wasn't brainwashed.
DP: Did you two hug?
NP: Oh, yeah, of course! Constantly! I love her. I think what she saw me as kind of an older sister or maternal figure. She didn't ask me about the world but I was a confidant. There were lots of things she told me both on and off camera that I didn't use because I didn't want to expose her.
DP: Her world is so different than yours so I wonder if you said something untrue to her if she'd see through you or be naive enough to accept it. Because there is such falseness going on in her world.
NP: You're right. But she's very smart and gets it. She has real integrity. What I found with the fundamentalists is that, as far out there as they are, the ones that I dealt with had an ethos, and that ethos gave them integrity.
DP: In the film's production notes, you wrote about how filming the fundamentalists turned out to be easier than filming the pageant world because every time you wanted to film a contestant she'd be whisked away for some reason. You wrote: "So I lost hair and ate."
NP: It was constant, and I was going, "I'm not going to have a film." The film I sold was that I was going to follow girls through the process and that meant I'd have access to them. I wasn't getting access so we'd just shoot whenever we could. It was really flying by the seat of our pants. We were lucky in that the girls were just so smart. And Ruhi was a trooper. She had no issues about being filmed. She loved being on camera and always wanted to do it. She was so open and wore her heart on her sleeve.
worldbeforehercontestants.jpg 2010 Miss India pageant

DP: It was easy to relate to her parents. They appear to be lower middle-class and they figured she knew more about what she was doing, so didn't put restrictions on her.
NP: They totally let her go. Her parents are actually well off but it doesn't come across because they live in such a ramshackle home. That's a whole other story. But they aren't poor. Ruhi's mum comes from a military background. Her father and granddad were in the military. When you're in the military in a place like India, you automatically have a much more open world view and you're more liberal. So she was raised in a liberal household and she is married to a lovely man and they support and love their daughter and let her do what she needs to do. They're really proud of her and want her to succeed. And Ruhi wants to make them proud. DP: What if you put the two fathers together?
NP (laughing): I actually think they'd get along really well. They'd have tea and complain about their daughters and how much money they cost them.
DP: Would Prachi's father ask him if he knew any eligible young guys?
NP: Probably not! I think Ruhi's dad is too liberal for him to ask that of him.
DP: Prachi's 26, so is it hard to marry her off?
NP: In some circles it would be. Her family is getting nervous but I don't think they'll freak until she hits twenty-eight or thirty.
Prachi teaching at camp
DP: She says she doesn't want to have kids. Do you think that's true?
NP: Yes. She doesn't want to get married or have children. She wants the freedom of a man.
DP: Has Prachi seen the film yet?
NP: No. I will be showing the film to her and others when I soon return to India. Hopefully they will still want to talk to me!
DP: Showing the film to Prachi should be an experience. She'll either love being a movie star or become a film critic and question what you chose to leave out of her! Good luck!
NP: I imagine Prachi is going to smoke a big fat cigar and tell me exactly what I did wrong.
DP: I'm sure you hope the best for both girls, but what do you see ahead for them?
NP: I'm a lot more optimistic about Ruhi. I think her road will be much more straightforward. She has very supportive parents who will back her and love her. I think we'll see her on television. Prachi will have a tough time, a very challenging life. But I think she'll get through it. I really do.

Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Portrait of "Portrait of Wally"

 Playing in Theaters

Portrait of "Portrait of Wally"

(brinkzine.com 5/9/12)

portraitofwallypainting.jpg
Portrait of Wally, about the most famous case involving the restitution of art stolen from European Jews by the Nazis was THE thinking-man's documentary at this year's Tribeca Film Festival. In fact, it was part of the Tribeca Talks series, prior to this weekend's opening at the Quad Cinema in New York. Directed by Andrew Shea (see photo) and cowritten by Shea and journalist David D'Arcy (see photo, in chair), it isn't simply the retelling of a long, intricate legal battle to determine the provenance of a masterpiece, but is also both a fascinating detective story with an array of good guys and crooks and a David-vs-Goliath tale in which a wronged family takes on the likes of Austrian government, corrupt billionaire art collectors, MoMA, and even NPR. To set the stage: The Portrait of Wally is a 1912 oil painting by Austrian Egon Shiele of his teenage mistress Valerie "Wally" Neuzil. In 1939, twenty-one years after the twenty-eight-year-old Shiele died during a Spanish flu pandemic, the Nazis seized the painting from art dealer and collector Lea Bondi (Jaray). After the war, American forces retrieved the painting but it ended up not with its owner but in the Belvedere, Austria's National Museum. In 1953 Bondi asked art collector Rudolf Leopold to try to get it back for her. Instead, he acquired the painting for himself and eventually displayed it in his government-established Leopold Museum in Vienna. Bondi Jaray hired lawyers and was still trying to get the painting back when she passed away in 1969. The story might have ended there but in 1997, Portrait of Wally was loaned by the Leopold Musuem to MoMA in New York City to be part of a Schiele exhibit. An article about the painting's history appeared in the New York Times. This prompted the heirs of Lea Bondi Jaray, most prominently Andre Bondi (see photo, at podium), to contact the New York County District Attorney, who in turn issued a subpoena forbidding its return to Austria. This set in motion years of wrangling over provenance. Leopold died in 2009 but his wife Elizabeth (see photo, displaying painting with a smile that will infuriate her detractors) carried on his fight to keep Shiele's painting at the museum in Austria. A $19M settlement was reached in 2010 but still there is controversy and anger over the outcome.
All this and much more is covered in the documentary, which I urge everyone to see. Also by copying and pasting, check out the film's site: http://www.7thart.com/films/Portrait-of-Wally. Below is Andrew Shea's statement about the film, followed by a brief email interview I did with David D'Arcy, who not only cowrote it but appears as an informative talking head.
Andrew Shea's Director's Statement: I was hesitant to take on this project when David D'Arcy, an old friend and former reporter for National Public Radio, brought the story of Portrait of Wally to my attention several years ago. The saga of this small painting by Egon Schiele spanned almost a century and several continents. Many of the key players were dead. The case had been mired in the United States federal courts
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for almost a decade, with no end in sight. But as I dug deeper I was struck by the sense of outrage and loss this painting aroused in so many people: the family of the Viennese art dealer Lea Bondi, determined to reclaim the stolen portrait she had failed to recover in her lifetime; the Manhattan District Attorney who sent shock waves through the international art world and enraged many of New Yorks most prominent cultural organizations when he issued a subpoena and launched a criminal investigation following the surprise resurfacing of Portrait of Wally; the New York art dealer who tipped off a reporter about the painting during the opening of a Schiele exhibition at a major American art museum; the Senior Special Agent at the Department of Homeland Security who vowed not to retire until the fight was over; the art theft investigator who unearthed the post-war subterfuge and confusion that ultimately landed the painting in the hands of a young, obsessed Schiele collector; the museum official who testified before Congress that the seizure of Portrait of Wally could have a crippling effect on the ability of American museums to borrow works of art; the Assistant United States Attorney who took the case to the eve of trial; and the legendary Schiele collector who bartered for Portrait of Wally in the early 1950s and fought to the end of his life to bring it home to Vienna. This outpouring of passion convinced me to take on a project that I knew would take years to complete. My hope is that we have succeeded in translating a singularly convoluted story into a compelling and human film that gives voice to the raw emotion of the many people whose lives have been touched by Schieles tender portrait of his mistress.


Interview with David D'Arcy
Danny Peary: You have been covering the topic of art stolen from the Jews by the Nazis for many years. Was it something you felt deeply personal about and/or was it just an intriguing topic for a curious journalist?
David D'Arcy: I have been covering this issue since the 1980s, for Art Newspaper, Art + Auction, and NPR. Why? Property somehow creates overlapping territory shared by the worst criminals of the 20th century and those who happened to buy it or own it or hold it after the war. Recovering that property offers a faint hope of justice for those who survived.

DP: Were you feeling like an investigative reporter uncovering corruption or, as a cynical veteran on this subject, did you basically know everything or predict everything that would transpire?
DD: I am an investigative reporter. I have been doing it for 30 years (for NPR, CBC, Vanity Fair, Art + Auction, etc.). What struck me was how an institution like MoMA took the position that it took on a Holocaust property crime, and then walked away without talking about it.

DP: Did you always think of the "Wally" story as ideal for a documentary? Or did you think the opposite?

DD: "Wally" is a good story for a doc--you just have to find the filmmakers who can turn it into cinema. I hope the film achieved some of that. Just keeping the story alive is a good thing.

DP: What were your initial discussions with Andrew Shea when you decided to start tackling a script? Did you use a script to find money for the production?

DD: There wasnt much discussion--the script is just a distillation of interviews, so it wasnt used to raise money.

DP: Since it was an open-ended story with twists and turns, did you fear that you'd be constantly rewriting it?

DD: There were no constant rewrites--the story is already overtaken by events. Other works of art are the subject of restitution claims, and the money hasnt been distributed to the heirs yet.
Portraitofwallydaviddarcy.jpg David D'Arcy
DP: Was the most difficult challenge the fact that Lea, the heroine of the piece, died long ago while the villains were still present?

DD: Lea Bondi is not the heroine of this story. She was a victim of theft, of a Holocaust property crime, and she failed to recover her property, or even to make a claim, but the family and the US attorney made the recovery possible. The term villain doesnt seem right, but the opponents of giving back the property stolen during the Holocaust never explained why they took those positions. Please ask them why that is. MoMA ran away from this film project. So did National Public Radio. They werent pillagers, but they make accountability difficult.

DP: This film has unconventional villains--people who run museums, MoMA, NPR, in some cases the law. As a writer, what were the challenges of portraying good guys and bad guys or was that never a concern? My sense is that you had to fill the gap left by Lea and bring in Willi Korte, Sharon Cohen Levin, Jane Kallir, Robert Morgenthau, Edith Bondi, and Andre Bondi--did you think in such terms?

DD: Forget about villains, think of the opposition to Lea Bondi as the banality of indifference, which became acute when I reported on it for NPR--then you get an attack on me behind my back by MoMA, and a combination of credulity and fear by NPR--the worst qualities to be found in people practicing journalism.

DP: Did the settlement throw you for a loop? Did you suddenly worry that an unsatisfying resolution to the "Wally" story might make your film have an unsatisfying ending for viewers?

DD: I broke the story of the settlement in Art Newspaper--it was a fact, so I didn't have the luxury of having any feelings about it. So was Leopold's death, which happened when I was in Vienna. I would have wanted to speak to him, but somehow my Ouija board hasnt been able to make contact. I suppose that's a regret.

DP: What was the ending you hoped you'd write?
DD: I didnt hope for an ending. I would still like NPR to apologize for the deceit and malice that it showed toward me, and for deliberately and maliciously airing false information which documents in their possession (provided to them by me at their request) showed to be false. They betrayed millions of listeners. They have never explained why they did that. People who give them money based on a relationship of trust are owed an explanation.
portraitofwallyandreibondi.jpg portraitofwallyeleopold.jpgAndre Bondi (top) Elizabeth Leopold (bottom)
DP: Andrew has thanked many people for helping him with this film. Who did you collaborate with over the years, including those on the Tribeca Talks panel?

DD: Willi Korte was an extraordinary source of information and insight. Jane Kallir is a great authority on Schiele and her values are in the right place. Sharon Levin fought a long, long fight against tough odds, as did her office. Marc Masurovsky brought and brings a moral intensity to the field of restitution. Hubertus Czernin was essential to all this, opening up Austrian institutions and their secrets, and publishing what no one else would. Der Standard in Vienna does a remarkable job on restitution stories.

DP: What is your greatest satisfaction as the cowriter of this film?

DD: I am pleased that some of the story of "Wally" made it to the screen.

To learn more about the story behind Portrait of Wally and find out where it will be screening nationally and internationally, copy and paste and go to this link: http://www.7thart.com/films/Portrait-of-Wally