documentary

Cinequest’s Mr. Documentary: Sandy Wolf (part 1)

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SANDY WOLF

How does Cinequest fill its slate of documentary features each year? For the past two decades, Sandy Wolf, a now-retired attorney, has been volunteering to find the documentaries that premiere at Cinequest.

Back in 2002, Wolf’s recommendation got Spellbound into the festival. The story of eight teenagers competing for the national spelling bee championship, Spellbound went on to become a national art house hit, and Wolf earned some major cred.

Each year, Wolf screens the 250 documentary features that have been submitted to Cinequest by filmmakers. Wolf then submits a top ten and a second twenty recommendations, along with his comments, to Cinequest Director of Programming and Associate Director Mike Rabehl. (Rabehl himself screens every Cinequest submission, including documentaries,) Rabehl has the final say, but he agrees with most of Wolf’s recommendations.

“You rarely see a bad documentary,” says Wolf. “Although there are a lot of mediocre ones.”

How does one actually watch 250 movies? From each July though November, Wolf watches movies in the morning, until he takes a break for lunch. After a visit to the neighborhood coffee joint, he resumes until dinnertime. But he reserves the evening for his own movie choices, not festival screeners.

“Mike Rabehl tells me not to make it a job”, but Wolf thinks its goes best with this regimen.

The slate of documentaries at Cinequest is usually quite rich. Here are some of my favorites from recent Cinequests, all of which are are now available to stream:

  • The Brainwashing of My Dad: When TV changes not just opinions, but mood and personality, too. Amazon, Vudu, YouTube, Google Play.
  • Meet the Hitlers: Wouldn’t you change YOUR name? Amazon, iTunes, Vudu.
  • There Will Be No Stay: In a society with capital punishment, someone must perform the executions. iTunes, Vudu, YouTube, Google Play.

Wolf saved me from a big mistake at the 2019 Cinequest. I had decided to pass on screening Clownvets because it looked too sappy for my notoriously jaded taste. But I watched it on Wolf’s recommendation, and I’m very glad that I did. Clownvets turned out to be well-constructed and surprisingly powerful.

This year Wolf tipped me off to The Quicksilver Chronicles, which is also my own favorite of the 2020 Cinequest documentaries.

But the Cinequest slate of documentaries isn’t Wolf’s only contribute to cinema culture, as we’ll learn in Cinequest’s Mr. Documentary: Sandy Wolf (part 2).

THE QUICKSILVER CHRONICLES: two bohemians in a ghost town – and life happens

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Kate Woods in THE QUICKSILVER CHRONICLES. Photo courtesy of Cinequest.

The documentary The Quicksilver Chronicles introduces us to the 60ish brother and sister Kemp and Kate Woods, who live a bohemian existence in a ghost town that they have to themselves. In other times, Kemp and Kate might have been labeled eccentrics or Free Thinkers.

Kate is raucously voluble. She is never without a cigarette, espouses her love of Mexican ballads and has an opinion on everything. Her friend, photographer Tom Chargin, has been taking pictures of Kate for decades.

Most of Kemp and Kate’s lives seem to involve dogs and cigarettes. The Quicksilver Chronicles is only 75 minutes long, which gives the filmmakers the freedom to pace the film slowly – that allows us to settle in and let these characters and their lifestyle wash over us. Just when you think we’re just watching these two putter around in the boonies, a major life event DOES happen.

They are living in Idria, California, population 2. This is the site of the long-defunct New Idria Mine, once America’s second biggest mercury mine (after San Jose’s New Almaden Quicksilver mine), In the California Gold Rush, mercury was used to extract gold from ore. There’s a mountainful of naturally occurring mercury at Idria, and the disturbances from the mining have made this a Superfund site.

As the crow flies, Idria is remarkably close to Silicon Valley. But, to get there, you first have to drive the 45 minutes to Hollister and then ANOTHER 2 hours past the tiny crossroads of Paicines, Panoche and Mercey Hot Spings.

Documentarians Ben Guez and Aleksandra Kulak shot The Quicksilver Chronicles over four years of visits to New Idria.

Cinequest hosts the US premiere of The Quicksilver Chronicles, my favorite documentary at this year’s festival.

THEREMIN MAGIC: that most unworldly of instruments

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THEREMIN FEVER. Photo courtesy of Cinequest.

The documentary Theremin Magic explores that most weirdly unworldly of musical instruments, the Theremin.  Documentarian Cressandra Thibodeaux took advantage of a global Theremin festival (who knew?) to film the world’s top five Theremin players. 

The five are a diverse lot, and their mastery of the instrument is astonishing.  Because the instrument is played by waving one’s fingers in the air next to it, the performances are visually somewhere between conducting an orchestra and dancing ballet.  At the very end there’s a scene with an entire classroom full of Theremin players.

If you are interested in music and haven’t dived deeply into the Theremin, this is all interesting.  Cinequest hosts the world premiere of Theremin Magic.

JOHN PINETTE: YOU GO NOW: where did the funny come from?

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JOHN PINETTE: YOU GO NOW. Photo cpurtesy of Cinequest

John Pinette: You Go Now, the biodoc of the comedian, plumbs beneath Pinette’s cherubic skin for insights into what sparked his humor – and his obesity. Let’s just say that his childhood was not the most nurturing.

The clips of Pinette’s performances are very funny, and the ones from his youth illustrate his remarkable gift at mimicry. Pinette himself thought that he had inherited genes that predisposed him to addiction, but he was clearly also born with immense talent.

Cinequest hosts the world premiere of John Pinette: You Go Now. It’s only the second time in Cinequest’s 30-year history that an open submission has been selected as the festival’s opening night film.

JAY SEBRING…CUTTING TO THE TRUTH: more than a victim

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JAY SEBRING…CUTTING TO THE TRUTH. Photo courtesy of Cinequest.

Jay Sebring…Cutting to the Truth attacks the indignity of a person being remembered, not for his significant achievements, but for his victimhood.  Jay Sebring was, along with his friend Sharon Tate, one of the Manson Family’s murder victims.  But Sebring invented – by himself – the men’s hairstyling industry.  And as what we now call an influencer, he led American men out of the Brylcreem Age.

This documentary is directed by Anthony DiMaria, the son of Sebring’s sister.  The film is remarkably well-sourced, with Sebring’s sister, his best Navy buddy, his first wife, his first hair-cutting partner and Hollywood pals like actor Stuart Whitman.  There’s even footage with Sebring’s first celebrity customer – Vic Damone (!), who introduced him to the Rat Pack and other crooners like Paul Anka; actors like Steven McQueen, Paul Newman and Henry Fonda soon followed.

Oddly, we meet Sebring himself through an industrial film he commissioned; this is as stilted as any of the industrial films of the 60s, so we don’t get any excitement coming from Sebring, only his drive and passion for hair styling.  But that’s OK, because we get a sense of Sebring’s vitality and charisma through the people who knew him.

It took a substantial time it took to uncover the actual but unimaginable facts of the Manson Family’s murderous lunacy.  Jay Sebring sadly reminds us that, during this period, the stories of the victims were sullied, when even mainstream media feasted on lurid speculation.  Jay Sebring busts up those urban legends, adds some under-reported facts about Sebring’s actions during the Manson attack and a glimpse into what could have been a future with Sharon Tate.

Cinequest hosts the world premiere of Jay Sebring…Cutting to the Truth.

Stream of the Week: WE BELIEVE IN DINOSAURS – denying science on a monumental scale

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WE BELIEVE IN DINOSAURS

In the thought-provoking documentary We Believe in Dinosaurs, filmmakers Clayton Brown and Monica Long Ross introduce us to Ark Encounter, a Kentucky attraction with a full-size replica of Noah’s Ark.  Explicitly pro-creationism and anti-evolution, Ark Encounter is filled with interpretive exhibits that illustrate the Biblical story of Noah as historical fact, kind of a fundamentalist, evangelical Smithsonian.   Ark Encounter is 45 miles from its sister attraction, the Creation Museum.

There’s a lot to think about – and even marvel about – here.  First of all, the Ark Encounter is an impressive spectacle.  In Genesis, God directed Noah to build the ark to be 300 cubits long, 50 cubits wide, and 30 cubits high.  That means that this thing is a football field-and-a-half long and over four stories high.  We get to meet and observe the technicians and artists as they build the animatronic Noah family and the reproduced animals.

The bigger story here, though, is the massive investment in anti-science propaganda.  To justify their literal acceptance of Biblical content that is inconsistent with scientific fact, these folks behind the Ark Encounter believe that they need to discredit science itself.  And they’re not just defending the literal occurrence of every Bible story, but also the chronology of Bishop Ussher who, in the mid 1600s, calculated that the earth was created in 4004 B.C.  That means that the Ark Encounter aggressively explains that the Earth and the human race, despite fossil evidence, are each 6,000 years old – and that dinosaurs lived alongside humans (and voyaged on the Ark). It also means that they seek to discredit the Theory of Evolution and the scientific method itself (while enjoying its byproducts – vaccines, for example).

When you distill their beliefs, these neo-creationists are essentially turbanless Taliban.   Just for perspective, after suppressing Galileo’s 1615 discovery of the earth-centered solar system, the Catholic Church started backpedaling in 1718.  That means that 300 years ago, even the reactionary Church decided not to double down on denying scientific discoveries.

And what about the scientists? And people of faith who accept science?  We Believe in Dinosaurs brings us the perspectives of Ark Encounter opponents, most notably a geologist, and a former neo-creationist, both native Kentuckians.  There’s also a local Baptist minister, who thinks that people of faith can also accept science.

One of the stunning aspects of We Believe in Dinosaurs is the unexpected David-and-Goliath story.  We might expect the science-deniers to be outmatched.  But the folks with most primitive beliefs are the creative masters.  Anti creationists are the Goliath, supported by hordes of believers, massive private investment, capacity for technical wizardry and even state support.  On the other hand, scientists are not often skilled in or equipped with tools for political persuasion and mass communications.  The pro-science folks are, like John the Baptist, a lone voice in the wilderness, losing the optics battle.

Brown and Long Ross have a point of view (that science is good), but they don’t make the Ark Encounter people ridiculous.  We directly hear the Ark Encounter leadership’s public pronouncements, and we meet the earnest and often sympathetic folks who are using their considerable talents to build and fill the attraction.  Brown and Long Ross let us hear from both sides and let us connect our own dots.  Watch the closing credits to the very end to get the subjects’ unfiltered view of the filmmakers. And wait for the film’s super-creepy money shot – that of an animatronic figure reflecting on the fate of others.

I saw We Believe in Dinosaurs at its world premiere at the San Francisco International Film Festival (SFFILM).  We Believe in Dinosaurs can be streamed from Amazon, Vudu, YouTube and Google Play.

WHAT SHE SAID: THE ART OF PAULINE KAEL – the drive for relevance

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Pauline Kael in WHAT SHE SAID: THE ART OF PAULINE KAEL

What She Said: The Art of Pauline Kael is the remarkably thorough and insightful biodoc of the iconic film critic Pauline Kael and her drive for relevance.

Documentarian Rob Garver has sourced What She Said is well-sourced with the memories of Kael’s colleagues, rivals and intimates. Garver’s portrait of Kael helps us understand her refusal to conform to social norms as she basically invented the role of a female film critic and what today we might call a national influencer on cinema.

Of course, one of Kael’s defining characteristics was her all-consuming love of movies, a trait shared by many in this film’s target audience. Fittingly, Garver keeps things lively by illustrating Kael’s story with clips from the movies she loved and hated. Garver’s artistry in composing this mosaic of evocative movie moments sets What She Said apart from the standard talking head biodocs.

Kael was astonishingly confident in her taste (which was not as snooty as many film writers). For the record, I think Kael was right to love Mean Streets, Band of Outsiders, Bonnie and Clyde, and, of course, The Godfather. It meant something to American film culture that she championed those films. She was, however, wrong to love Last Tango in Paris. She was also right to hate Limelight, Hiroshima Mon Amour and The Sound of Music. But Kael was just being a contrarian and off-base to hate Lawrence of Arabia and Shoah.

Kael was by necessity an intrepid self-promoter and filled with shameless contradictions. She famously dismissed the auteur theory but sponsored the bodies of work of auteurs Scorsese, Peckinpah, Coppola and Altman. She loved – even lived – to discover and support new talent.

Most of the people we like and admire possess at least some bit of selflessness and empathy. Kael’s daughter Gina James says that Kael turned her lack of self awareness into triumph,. This observation, of course, cuts both ways.

I saw What She Said: The Art of Pauline Kael at the 2019 San Francisco Jewish Film Festival. It’s now playing in theaters in San Francisco and Berkeley.

HONEYLAND: bees good, neighbors bad

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HONEYLAND

The documentary Honeyland is about a fiftyish Macedonian woman named Hatidze, who lives in an otherwise abandoned mountain village. She cares for her mother, who is blind and bedridden, and she clambers over rocky mountains to collect honeycombs and bees; she sells the honey in a nearby city for a living.

Suddenly, a thoroughly disorganized family moves in next door, sprawling litter and rowdy kids across the previously serene landscape. The father, Hussein, thinks that he will strike it rich raising cattle and bees; the fact that it’s not that easy utterly escapes him. Hussein is foolish, makes the lazy choice at every opportunity and blames the resultant misadventures on others.

Despite Hatidze’s best efforts, her mother’s health declines and Hussein’s self-made disasters continue. That’s all that happens in Honeyland. As my longtime readers will know, I’m more patient with the slowly paced, indie cinéma vérité than the next guy; but but I lost interest in Honeyland. The only reason I watched Honeyland to the end was because The Wife wanted to see if something more interesting was going to happen.

In fact, the only reason that I’m writing about this film at all is that it has somehow been Oscar-nominated for both the Best International Film and the Best Documentary, which I find baffling.

Reportedly, the filmmakers lived in tent in the remote village and filmed Honeyland over four years.

Hatidze is sweet, decent and fully aligned with popular values of sustainability. She has a sense of humor and some measure of snaggle-toothed charm. The film is only one hour 26 minutes, but it seems longer. I streamed Honeyland, but I don’t know why you should.

MIDNIGHT FAMILY: an all-night race for pesos

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Luke Lorentzen’s MIDNIGHT FAMILY. Cuurtesy of SFFILM

In his gripping documentary Midnight Family, filmmaker Luke Lorentzen takes us on ridealongs with an all-night ambulance crew in Mexico City. It’s even wilder than you may expect.

Midnight Family is set in an absurd situation with life-and-death stakes. We learn right away that there are only 45 government-operated ambulances in Mexico City, a metropolis of 9 million. The rest of the ambulances are private and mostly independents.

Competition is cut throat. The private ambulances listen to police scanners and then TRY TO OUTRACE each other to the scene. One of these independent ambulances is the Ochoa family’s business.

Fernando Ochoa is the head of the family, and he collects the ambulance fee from hospitals and patients. His 17-year-old son Juan is the voluble front man and driver, who careens them through the Mexico City streets at alarming speed. The Ochoa’s colleague, the even-tempered medic Manuel, rides in the back. The youngest Ochoa son, pudgy, Ruffles-devouring 10-year-old Josue, rides along as a gopher. BTW there are no seat belts in the back.

The private ambulances operate in a shady world of semi-formal licensing, so they can always be shut down arbitrarily by the cops. Indeed, we even see the Ochoas arrested while trying to take a patient to the hospital. It’s common for the police to extract bribes from the vulnerable ambulance crews.

There is an incentive to steer patients to the private hospitals that will pay the ambulance crews, so their business is, by its nature, often a hustle; there are some instances of ethical ambiguity. Aiming to depict a “wide spectrum”, Lorentzen balances life-saving heroics with the more sketchy moments. Getting payment out of a grieving family when the loved one dies on the way to the hospital is, well, awkward.

Here is the Ochoa’s business model. Ideally, they get paid about $250 to deliver a patient to a private hospital. They deduct the cost of gasoline, medical supplies and police bribes, and then split what’s left four ways. If a patient can’t or won’t pay, if the vehicle breaks down, or if the cops shut them down – the Ochoas are out of luck.

Luke Lorentzen’s MIDNIGHT FAMILY. Cuurtesy of SFFILM

Fernando is silent but expressive. Carrying an alarming belly, he stoically juggles an assortment pills to treat his chronic illness. The loquacious Juan is a born front man, and basically provides play-by-play commentary throughout the film in real time. We see him downloading the previous night’s drama over the phone to his girlfrend Jessica and, by loud speaker, directing other Mexico City drivers out of his way.

Fernando and Juan sleep on the floor of a downscale apartment, and they never know if they’ll make enough money for tomorrow’s gasoline. It’s an incredibly stressful existence. How resilient can they be? Is there any limit to the stress they can absorb? As Lorentzen himself says, this is “a world where no one is getting what they need”.

I saw Midnight Family at the 2019 San Francisco International Film Festival (SFFILM), which included an in-person Q&A with Lorenzen. Lorentzen spent 80-90 nights with the crew. About 70% of the film comes from the last three nights that he rode with the Ochoas.

Midnight Family joins a mini-genre of rogue ambulance cinema. The very dark Argentine narrative Carancho stars the great Ricardo Darin as a LITERALLY ambulance-chasing lawyer. In the Hungarian dark comedy Heavenly Shift (I saw it at the 2014 Cinequest), an outlaw ambulance crew gets kickbacks from a shady funeral director if the patient dies en route to the hospital.

Midnight Family is just concluding a run at the Roxie in San Francisco. I’ll let you know when it’s streamable. Midnight Family is one of the nest documentaries of the year, and on my Best Movies of 2019.

63 UP: a generation faces mortality

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63 Up is the latest chapter in the greatest documentary series in cinema history (and on my list of Greatest Movies of All Time). Starting with Seven Up! in 1964, director Michael Apted has followed the same fourteen British children, filming snapshots of their lives at ages 7, 14, 21, 28, 35, 42, 49. and 56 – and now at age 63. Choosing kids from different backgrounds, the series started as a critique of the British class system, but has since evolved into a broader exploration of what factors can lead to success and happiness at different stages of human life. (Apted was the hands-on researcher, not the director on Seven Up! and then directed the next nine films in the series.)

We have seen these characters live roller coaster lives.  The surprise in 56 Up was how contented they seemed to be, having independently reached a stage in their lives where they live with acceptance and satisfaction; the subjects had already weathered their broken marriages and other dramas and seemed to have settled into themselves.  The same is true of 63 Up, but there is more reflection in light of mortality.  There’s a death and a life-threatening illness, but all the characters understand that they’re longer at the beginning of their lives.

Because Apted includes clips from earlier films to set the stage for each character, you don’t need to watch all nine movies.  Because there is so little conflict in 63 Up, it would be ideal to first screen an edgier film like 35 Up or 42: Forty Two Up.  The earlier films are difficult, perhaps impossible, to find streaming, but the entire series (Seven Up!, Seven Plus Seven, 21 Up, 28 Up, 35 Up, 42 Up, 49 Up, 56 Up) is available on Netflix DVDs. 56 Up is streamable on Amazon, iTunes, Vudu, YouTube, Google Play and Kanopy.

The theme of the series at the outset was “Give me a boy of seven and I will give you the man“. This time, Apted asks this question directly of the subjects, with varying results.

As usual, the voluble Tony and the utterly unpredictable Neil are the stars, but I got more out of the stories of Symon and Paul than I had ever before.  The biggest surprise for me was the earnest do-gooder teacher Bruce, who I hadn’t ever envisaged as a jovial family patriarch.

63 UP

Michael Apted is a big time director (Coal Miner’s Daughter, Gorillas in the Mist).  It is remarkable that he has returned so faithfully to his subjects in the Up series. 

I saw 63 Up at the Mill Valley Film Festival, with Apted in attendance. Apted is now 78, and hopes to direct 70 Up if he still has mental acuity. Apted acknowledges that his biggest mistake was not including enough girls at the outset (four girls out of fourteen kids); he’s tried to address it by expanding the roles of several of the male subjects’ female partners.

The Up series is significant and unique cinema – see 63 Up if you can.