by Travis Mackenzie Hoover
ABSOLUT WARHOLA (2001)
*½/****
directed by Stanislaw Mucha
There is, believe it or not, an Andy Warhol museum in the remote Slovenian town of Medzilaborce; sadly, director Stanislaw Mucha can't scare up much of a reason to know about it. Essentially a stomp-the-hicks number, his film takes great pains to mock the residents of Warhol's ancestral home, who, though not quite sure why these paintings are supposed to be important, are nevertheless pleased to have such a famous relative and native son. But as Absolut Warhola heavy-handedly contrasts the guileless and homey Warholas–who prattle on about everything from the television and the relative merits of Lenin and Stalin–with the ultra-urbane art objects enshrined in the leaky museum, the film backfires on itself: it makes Warhol seem less interesting by showing how little he matters to people who live outside an urban cultural elite.
The film is more interesting for its portrait of a locality than as a demonstration of a cultural phenomenon: the town has found itself depressed after the fall of communism, everyone is on welfare, there isn't much hope. As a guide shows us unused oil wells from a more prosperous era, gypsies complain of their shabby treatment, and everyone drinks copious amounts of alcohol, it dawns that there's a real story to be told, but Mucha fragments everything into bite-sized chunks and gears it towards the punchlines of the townspeople's "hilarious" remarks. But as one sees the community interact with the art–a curator plays a bemused song about the artist, a family member performs the Warholian task of making needlepoint reproductions of the paintings–the film shatters not only Andy but also the culture he represents, which includes smug documentarians like Mucha.
BLIND FOX
**/****
directed by Adam Schaefer
Despite a disarming candour that keeps it from falling apart entirely, there's no getting around the fact that Adam Schaefer's Blind Fox is the work of a 19-year-old high-schooler without much perspective on the feelings that plague him. This means that its disquieting nuggets of teenage hopelessness in Mississauga have to jostle for attention with what amounts to chewing with your mouth open to gross out your little sister. To its credit, the film's diaristic vision of young North America runs entirely counter to the 'sensitive' kids of Hollywood and "Degrassi", with some aimless, macho boys cursing and smoking up while contemplating a future they can barely imagine. Images include Schaefer's gay father fellating a sausage, desperate interviews with stoned friends, and a gunned-down fox that epitomizes Schaefer's wounded emotions.
Unfortunately, for every image that represents our morally rudderless post-modern existence, there are ten simply the product of adolescent show-offing. There's the admission that Schaefer wipes his ass standing up, a glut of images of him preening for the camera, and way, way too many shots of friends smoking enormous joints–all of which show that the filmmaker's desire to tell the truth has gotten mixed up with a youthful desire to shock and strut. Someday, I'd like to see his cynical fury fully formed, but I can't say that the day has come to pass.
THE DADDY OF ROCK 'N' ROLL
***/****
directed by Daniel Bitton
Many documentaries make you understand things by stepping back and watching; The Daddy of Rock 'N' Roll does it through dropping you into uncharted waters and letting you sink or swim. The video begins by following underground artist and rock musician Wesley Willis as he writes lyrics, peddles CDs, makes copies at Kinko's, and records his amusical music; he's clearly got some problems, but the video won't let on what they are. Refusing to pin him to the board and dissect him, it follows his stream-of-consciousness rants and repetitive songwriting, sucking us into his lifestyle and forcing us to respect it…before introducing us to his support system and his schizophrenic past. But even when his friends reveal his drug regimen and hellish childhood, the explanations are at the periphery. The main event is Willis and his monomaniacal will to rock.
Admittedly, one has to like the music to truly ride out the documentary, and I wasn't really convinced of its quality; there didn't seem to be much there beyond repetitive choruses and barely-hit high notes. Nevertheless, as the video's climactic concert sequence reveals, he has a solid fan base that sings along with his songs of mullets and Courtney Love. And in deciding to end the film there, in the nonironic triumph of his eccentric subject, director Daniel Bitton seems positively unique in our world of suburban smartasses ready to fire at vulnerable targets.
LAW AND ORDER (1969)
**½/****
directed by Frederick Wiseman
"Hot Docs" Lifetime Achievement honouree Frederick Wiseman does the Tampa, Florida police department with mixed results. In its favour is a total reversal of what we see on "Cops": Instead of sticking with the masterful policeman catching a series of 'bad boys,' he fixes his camera on the angry and confused arrestees as they scream, resist arrest, and bargain to make things better for themselves. The ambiguity of the relationship between cop and citizen is given a still-singular representation as no-win situations pile up and confrontations remain unresolved. One horrible scene features a black felon angrily incriminating himself in the interrogation room and a new prostitute's attempts to keep herself out of jail. The implication is that police can deal with individual cases, but they can't fix the circumstances that created them.
Unfortunately, Wiseman's methods obscure as much as they reveal. One can't really examine the role of police just through watching a series of arrests; the film might have looked inside the precinct offices as much as it went on the beat, and examined the police culture's impact on the job. Perhaps he wouldn't have had access to such material, though the fact remains that what's being shown here is not the full story. In the end, all we are presented with is chaos, and while the chaos is sometimes fertile, it's mostly too vague to reach a point.
