DOC NYC ’11: Bill T. Jones—A Good Man

No political leader endured more viscous defamations from their rivals and the media than President Abraham Lincoln, not even Sarah Palin. Nevertheless, the sixteenth president transcended those slings and arrows, bringing America much closer to the promise of its founding ideals. Somehow though, dancer-choreographer Bill T. Jones remained skeptical, initially envisioning his Lincoln bicentennial commission as a work of historical revisionism. The concurrent evolution of Jones’ controversial production and his judgment on Lincoln are documented in Bob Hercules & Gordon Quinn’s Bill T. Jones: A Good Man (trailer here), which screens today at DOC NYC 2011, about a week ahead of its broadcast premiere on PBS’s American Masters.

Without question, Jones is one of the leading choreographer’s of modern dance. A Tony award winner for Fela!, he has collaborated with iconic artists like Jessye Norman and Max Roach. Compulsively well read in history, philosophy, and sociology, Jones seems cynical in an instinctively contrarian way. In fact, in its early stages he conceives Fondly We Do Hope . . . Fervently We Do Pray as a vehicle for airing a compendium of Lincoln’s less enlightened statements on race. One wonders why on Earth he would agree to spend such a considerable amount of time with a subject he was so ambivalent about.

Indeed, Jones gradually warms to Lincoln, embracing the unifying president, despite his flaws, following Lincoln’s own example. However, the choreographer’s leadership style will still most likely keep viewers at arm’s length. It is one thing to be demanding, but Jones eventually admits to the company his demeanor has not always been properly respectful.

Despite or perhaps because of Jones’ difficulty coming to grips with Lincoln, his choreography looks legitimately inspired. His dancers also have an impressive physicality, well suited to the nature of the production. It is fascinating to watch Fondly come together, but frankly it is not always pleasant observing Jones at work. (Those interested in a behind the scenes view of a major dance company would probably be better advised to check out Frederick Wiseman’s La Danse).

It is an appealing novelty to watch someone shed a layer of cynicism, particularly an artist of Jones’ caliber. Yet, Pres. Lincoln never really gets his due in Good Man (not that he should worry about history’s verdict), beyond a grudging admission from Jones that maybe there really are great men who make an affirmative difference in history and perhaps Lincoln was one of them. Dance connoisseurs will still find plenty to appreciate in Good Man, but they should certainly be able to wait until its broadcast debut this coming Friday (11/11). Nonetheless, committed Jones fans can still catch it this afternoon (11/5) as part of this year’s DOC NYC if they scramble down to the IFC Center.

DOC NYC ’11: Views on Japan (shorts)

It was only a matter of months after Katrina hit that a bumper crop of outraged documentaries began jostling for art-house attention. Strangely, almost eight months after the devastating Tōhoku earthquake and Tsunami rocked Japan the documentary film industry still maintains nearly complete radio silence. However, filmmaker Lucy Walker recognized the magnitude of the tragic events in Japan, capturing the immediate aftermath and early rebuilding efforts in The Tsunami and the Cherry Blossom (trailer here), which screens as part of the Views on Japan short film program at DOC NYC 2011.

Blossom opens with first-hand video footage that will make viewers forever foreswear Roland Emmerich disaster movies. From the relative safety of higher ground, residents watch as the tsunami slowly obliterates their town and all their neighbors left behind. Their audible anguish is truly haunting.

There are many stories from those who lost loved ones. Clearly, the pain remains understandably raw and immediate for them. Yet, there is no finger-pointing or ranting in Blossom. The Japanese people are contradictorily both too practical and too philosophical for such indulgences. Instead they seek to remember and rebuild. Whether it is the beautiful young photographer recording the rebirth of the town destroyed in the initial scene, from that very same vantage point, or the relief worker who always stops to salvage family photos and tombstones, their efforts are profoundly moving.

For many survivors, the coming of the annual cherry blossom season signifies the process of rebirth, reminding them that life goes on. Observing the natural beauty of the sakura is an important tradition in Japan. Davina Pardo’s Minka (trailer here) also celebrates the distinctive grace of the Japanese culture and landscape. Minka refers to the Japanese farmhouses, whose rustic elegance is indeed peculiarly Japanese.

If you imagine the greatest Frank Lloyd Wright Prairie style home ever, you will have a sense of the vintage Minka American A.P. correspondent John Roderick and his future adopted son Yoshihiro Takishita rescued from demolition, literally rebuilding it piece by piece once they found a suitable site. It became the first real home for both men, eventually inspiring Takishita to make a career out of rebuilding similar farm houses.

Lovingly photographed by Pardo, their Minka looks intimately comfortable, yet its high ceilings and flowing space are quite striking. In fact, it is also a highly personal space, maintaining a connection between Takishita and the late Roderick.

Both films are highly personal tributes to the spirit and culture of our close Japanese friends and allies. They are also both potential award winners. Blossom is by far the best film on the otherwise uninspiring Oscar shortlist for best documentary short subject, while Minka is an official nominee for best short at the 2011 IDA Documentary Awards. Both films are the class of their respective fields, highly recommended when they screen together this coming Monday (11/7) as the Views from Japan double bill at this year’s DOC NYC. Concerned individuals can also still support the Japan Society’s earthquake relief fund by going here.

DOC NYC ’11: Perdida

Movie-making was the Calderón family business. They are responsible for some of World cinema’s most iconic images, but for years they could not get any respect in their native Mexico, despite their prodigious output. For filmmaker and grand-niece Viviana García Besné, the Calderón story was not just a forgotten cultural phenomenon, it was lost family history, rediscovered in all its Roger Cormanesque glory in Perdida (trailer here), which screens this Sunday as part of the 2011 DOC NYC.

At one point, the Calderóns were the leading exhibitors of Mexican films on either side of the border, with a chain of grand movie palaces that stretched up to El Paso. Unfortunately, they were forced to sell their theaters to a sketchy consortium under circumstances that remain murky. They still had their production arm though.

The Calderóns produced a wide array of films, including prestige pictures starring Ricardo Montalban, who had a very complicated relationship with the family. However, these always lost money. This was not the case with the “ficheras” for which their production house became notorious. Always set in nightclubs so they could feature plenty of naked dancing girls and groovy music, the fincheras were genuine exploitation films that look only slightly awesome based on the clips shrewdly sampled in Perdida.

Yet, their biggest hits were probably the early films starring Santo the wrestler, who would popularize Lucha Libre wrestling around the world. As if that were not cool enough, they were also responsible for Santa Claus Conquers the Martians, the MST3K staple co-starring a young Pia Zadora. If this does not constitute major cinema history, than nothing does.

Obviously, any documentary featuring Santa throwing down against Dropo, the Martian village idiot, has considerable entertainment value. However, Besné’s attempts to come to grips with her family’s legacy are also quite engaging. Indeed, there is even a mysterious film vault that will eventually be opened.

Stylishly integrating distinctive graphics, suitably dramatic film clips, an evocative score by Anahit Simonian, and some insightful first person reminiscences (including Montalban’s final on-camera interview), Perdida is a thoroughly satisfying documentary. While it clearly appeals to fans of Corman’s World and American Grindhouse, it is sweeter and gentler, despite the thematic similarities (and not infrequent nudity) of the films documented. A lovely and loony film, Perdida is one of the highlights of this year’s DOC NYC. Affectionately recommended, it screens this coming Sunday (11/6) at the IFC Center.