The Last 600 Meters: The Battles of Najaf and Fallujah, on PBS

“I think we left too soon.” That is not a so-called “neocon” from the Bush administration speaking. It was current Democrat congressman and Iraq War veteran Seth Mouton discussing the decision to pull out of Najaf. As he and many of his fellow veterans remember the battle, they were on the verge of scoring a decisive victory over the Mahdi Militia, when the politicians agreed to a cease-fire. Unfortunately, political considerations overruling battlefield realities are a recurring theme in Michael Pack’s documentary The Last 600 Meters: The Battles of Najaf and Fallujah, which premieres this Monday on PBS.

Although it premieres tomorrow, Pack’s film consists of interviews that were recorded in 2007, while memories were still fresh (and the participates were clearly inclined towards candor). Fallujah and Najaf ae still considered the American military’s largest battles since the Vietnam War, but there is little understanding of what actually happened, making Pack’s film quite valuable and even necessary viewing.

Time and again, the Marines and Army were forced to pull back just right when they were on the brink of a dealing a crippling blow to the Daesh-adjacent insurgents. In the case of the First Battle of Fallujah, this was particularly galling to the interviewed veterans, because the battle was initially ignited by the humiliating Black Hawk Down-inspired display of the bodies of three murdered American contractors.

However, there were some lessons learned. For weeks, Al-Jazeera broadcast propaganda claiming American forces were intentionally damaging the Fallujah hospital, inflaming the local population against coalition forces (sounds familiar, right?). Consequently, securing the hospital became the first objective of the final big push into Fallujah to silence the disinformation.

In a way, the American military applied those lessons in Najaf when Muqtada al-Sadr occupied the sacred Imam Ali Shrine. Rules of engagement were devised that prevented damage to the mosque, yet still ultimately “squeezed out” the insurgents. At least it seemed to be working until DC agreed to another frustrating cease fire.

Clearly, there are a lot of lessons learned about house-to-house fighting. Again, the Army and Marines developed largely successful techniques that pushed insurgents from densely populated areas to more open industrial districts. Hopefully, these battles will remain in the services’ institutional memories and find a way into the academies’ curriculum.

True War Stories, with Proceeds Going to Military Charities

Civilians often (rather insensitively) request war stories from veterans, but those who lived to tell them can be hesitant to do so, because they aren’t sure if they will truly be understood or appreciated. However, a fellow veteran comics writer like Khai Krumbhaar can relate to their experiences. She and Alex de Campi edited True War Stories, a graphic anthology of wartime experiences now available in tradepaper, the proceeds from which go to military charities, including the USO.

For the most part, the contributors wanted to tell stories that were meaningful to them, for personal and even idiosyncratic reasons, but they are not necessarily historical turning points. For instance, probably the two best tales are Krumbhaar’s “Rebels of Macadamia” and Matt Moores’ “Man Overboard,” because they illustrate the hyper-reality of war, but with a slyly dark sense of humor. Frankly, they remind me of the [maybe not-so] slightly off-color anecdotes I heard from my late Naval aviator father.

Fittingly, the Navy is represented in “Man Overboard,” which turns out to be the most ribald yarn of the lot—and dad would be so proud. Peter Krause’s art also nicely suits the characters’ hardnosed and rowdy attitudes.

Krumbhaar’s “Rebels of Macadamia” is the sort of story that shows how war warps the margins of reality, in comical and even macabre ways. It captures a hidden war within the war, waged by Krumbhaar and her army colleagues against the rats in one of Saddam former palaces. The winners would enjoy the white chocolate macadamia cookies they both coveted.

They stakes are considerably higher in Robert Kent’s “My Vietnam Story,” which is well-served by Dave Acosta’s gritty and powerful art. If you thought Krypto was heroic in Superman, wait to you see Maverick, a German shepherd service dog, who foils a potentially calamitous Viet Cong attack. “War stories” do not get much more “war” than this one.

Several contributions illustrate the dividends paid by rigorous and repetitive military training, such as Ian Eishen’s “Joint Team,” methodically chronicling the Navy SEALs tracking a kidnapped Filipino girl, running reconnaissance missions, and carefully planning the rescue operation to be conducted by the Filipino SEAL team, due to the diplomatic rules of engagement at that time. Likewise, Juan Vaca’s “OK” depicts the extraordinary discipline of Marine snipers, notably including the discipline sometimes required to hold fire.

There are three incredibly moving stories. Jerrod Alberich’s “Best Day, Worst Day” depicts the bonds of camaraderie and the fear of losing a brother after a surprise attack. It also gives some good PR to the WWE, who were at Camp Victory, Iraq to stage a performance (or whatever term they prefer) at the time of the mortar shelling.

Truthfully, active-duty Army officer Stephen Cady’s “Brothers” would (and should) make a terrific movie. After a harrowing deployment, seen in extensive flashbacks, Lt. Cady finds himself temporarily quartered on Bagram Air Force base as he awaits transit back to the States. In a twist of fate, the Marine half-brother he barely knows is also stationed there, so he somewhat reluctantly agrees to meet for their mother’s sake. That reunion stretches into seven of the most emotionally resonant pages of sequential graphic story-telling you will ever read in your life.

Yellow Birds

In recent years, the military has sanitized their marching cadences. Now the “yellow bird” gets his “little head” smashed, rather than his “f’ing head.” Surely, this has caused great relief among ornithologists everywhere. Unfortunately, they have not been able to prettify the nature of warfare itself. Incidents from the Iraq War will haunt survivors in Alexandre Moors’ Yellow Birds (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Brandon Bartle is twenty-one, making him a veritable gray beard compared to eighteen-year-old Daniel Murphy, but they are both from rural Virginia, so they bond during basic training. Sergeant Sterling also recognizes their reliability, so he takes them under his wing, at least to an extent. This is mostly a good thing, especially when they first arrive in-country.

We can tell from the flashback structure something profoundly unfortunate happened during their deployment, but Bartle clearly survived, since we watch the film through his remorseful POV. It is not long before we realize Murph’s fate remains unresolved, because a good deal of the third act involves his mother Maureen Murphy’s crusade for the truth. She is the one played by executive producer Jennifer Aniston (that’s right, Rachel from Friends is playing the mother of an eighteen-year-old).

Reportedly, Yellow Birds was recut after its Sundance premiere, which makes sense considering there are cast-members listed on its imdb page we’re at a loss to remember. The current cut is pretty tight and the temporal shifts mostly work, which is saying something. However, the current cut is probably not sufficiently scathing to satisfy to the anti-war left (which includes our current president), nor is it sympathetic enough to appeal to military families and supporters. Instead, it feels like it walks a carefully calibrated line down the middle, like one would more expect from a TV movie.

Alden Ehrenreich (who has had a tough summer with Solo) is very good as Bartle. He does his share of brooding, but it is a more complex performance than just that. Toni Collette also elevates the largely stereotypical role of his mother Amy (between this and Hereditary, she gives quite a composite portrait of motherhood). Aniston is fine as Mother Murphy, but it is a very safe role. However, Jack Huston is terrific as the increasingly unstable, but still formidable Sgt. Sterling. Most disappointingly, Jason Patric is largely squandered as CID Captain Anderson.

David Lowery’s screenplay, subsequently worked over by R.F.I. Porto, represents a good faith effort to adapt Kevin Powers’ novel. The film exhibits genuine empathy for Bartle and Murphy, which is to its credit. There are also some relatively convincing scenes of warfighting, but it never reaches the level of classical tragedy that it clearly aspires to. Indeed, it feels rather narrow in scope, especially compared to Patric’s classic war movie, The Beast. Yellow Birds is not a scandal, but it still doesn’t justify Manhattan ticket prices when it opens tomorrow (6/15), at the Village East.

Danger Close: Alex Quade Tells the Special Forces’ Stories

If you were embarking on a dangerous mission, you would much prefer to have embedded journalist Alex Quade with you than a lot of our so-called allies. You could count on her to keep her head and make the right decisions during times of crisis. For her, the U.S. Special Forces soldiers are not just a subject to file and forget. They are the people she shared foxholes with. Quade does their stories justice in Christian Tureaud & David Salzberg’s documentary, Danger Close (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Danger Close is the third film in Tureaud & Salzberg’s trilogy (so far), documenting both the day-to-day and extreme warfighting conditions experienced by American troops in Iraq and Afghanistan, following The Hornet’s Nest and Citizen Soldier. Quade is highly simpatico with their approach. She never takes positions on the missions themselves, but she feels a duty to truthfully report the dangers and challenges the U.S. Special Forces and conventional military personnel face.

This is particularly true in the case of the late Green Beret Staff Sgt. Rob Pirelli. The chief engineer of his detachment, Pirelli built their combat outpost almost single-handedly from scratch. In appreciation of his labor, the men of ODA-072 christened it Combat Outpost Pirelli. After Pirelli was killed in action, his family took great pride in the honor Pirelli’s comrades bestowed on him. The Combat Outpost Pirelli insignia emblazoned on its fortified walls became particularly meaningful to them, so they asked Quade to verify that Camp Pirelli wall still stands proud. Obviously, an embed cannot just race off to a remote corner of the embattled Diyala province on her own accord. Yet, Quade slowly but tenaciously started working her way across the country to uphold her promise.

Clearly, Quade formed a bond with Pirelli’s family, but her personal mission ran deeper than that. In the opening minutes of DC, we see the Chinook helicopter Quade very nearly boarded get blown out of the sky by a shoulder-launched projectile. The concern the Special Forces rank-and-file show for her well-being, despite the fact she is merely a journalist, is decidedly not lost on her.

Taken together, Tureaud & Salzberg’s three films form an extraordinary record of the boots-on-the-ground combat experience. The marketer inside us would recommend a special gift edition box set for the holidays. Each one has moments of white knuckle tension and emotionally devastating sequences that bring home the human cost of war in no uncertain terms.

This time around, Tureaud & Salzberg had the advantage of all the amazing footage Quade shot, often when she was under fire. You can easily see why the military personnel she covered believed she had earned her spurs. Yet, she also handles the Pirelli family with the respect and sensitivity they are due.

It is important to point out Quade has extensive credits packaging and producing for CNN, because a certain cynical segment of the population (those who automatically equate patriotism with “jingoism”) will want to dismiss her as a Fox News plant or some such fantastical beast. The truth is Quade has put her life on the line reporting from the frontlines—and she has the videotape to prove it. She has already received the Congressional Medal of Honor Society’s award for journalistic excellence, but Danger Close ought to bring Quade much wider recognition. Very highly recommended for mainstream, popular audiences nationwide, Danger Close opens this Friday (4/28) in New York, at the Cinema Village.

HRWFF ’12: Salaam Dunk

There was no Title IX in Iraq under Saddam.  In fact, the general idea of gender equity that motivated the landmark legislation remains scarce throughout the region.  Yet, two years after its founding, the American University of Iraq, Sulaimani (AUIS) fielded a pioneering women’s basketball team.  They never won a game during their first season.  David Fine documents their second in the truly inspiring Salaam Dunk (trailer here), which screens as part of the 2012 Human Rights Watch Film Festival in New York.

Their students are the future leaders of Iraq.  Offering a rigorous academic program in the relatively sheltered environment of Sulaimani, AUIS makes a point of recruiting a cross section of Iraq’s population.  As a result, the nascent women’s basketball team boasts a roster of Arabs, Kurds, Shiites, Sunnis, and Christians.  They are led by Coach Ryan, a visiting American English lecturer.  Tough but supportive, he is a refreshing antidote to all the wrong sort of coaches who have made the news recently.  However, everyone is keenly aware his fellowship ends with the current academic year.

For students from Baghdad, Sulaimani is an island of stability, yet many still worry about their families.  Nearly all team members have lost friends or family to violence.  As Coach Ryan observes, his team has faced more in their still young lives than most of those watching their documentary will ever have to contend with.  Not merely an extracurricular activity, basketball becomes something uniquely “theirs.”  It bonds the young women together and gives them a sense of identity.  They also want to win.

Probably no genre traffics in shopworn clichés like the sports documentary, but Salaam is something else entirely.  When the coach consoles his team after a hard loss that their gutty performance is more important than a “W” or an “L,” it is not hollow.  It is a profoundly heavy moment.  Notions of sportsmanship and the “healing power of sport” take on very real meaning here.

Director-editor-co-cinematographer Fine gives viewers a full sense of players’ personalities, as well as that of their coach and student-manager.  They are all bright and immensely likable.  Indeed, the experience of AUIS in general and the women’s basketball team in particular appears to be a successful social catalyst, bringing the diverse team together, despite their religious and ethnic differences.  This does not mean Salaam is uneventful.  The AUIS team just saves their drama for the court (or the classroom or the debating society).

This is a great documentary.  The term “crowd-pleaser” just does not cover it.  While the circumstances of the Iraq War unavoidably hang over the young Iraqis, Salaam scrupulously avoids politics, as such.  It is one of the best sports docs in years, but it is not really about games and stats.  It is about a group of young scholars becoming athletes and leaders, who will inspire audience confidence in Iraq’s future.  While HRW is always a radically mixed bag, Salaam Dunk and the opening night selection, Alison Klayman’s Ai Weiwei: Never Sorry, the Sundance alumnus profiling the Chinese dissident artist, are two films that should absolutely not be missed.  Highly recommended, Salaam Dunk screens this Saturday (6/16), Sunday (6/17), and Monday (6/18) at the Walter Reade Theater.

Gittoes at AFA: Soundtrack to War

George Gittoes is a filmmaker who is not afraid of a little controversy. However, when Michael Moore rather casually lifted scenes from Gittoes’ boots-on-the-ground Iraq documentary, it was the sort of media kerfuffle he would never expect his work to generate. While Gittoes has been critical of the war in Iraq, and all wars in general, his films are never kneejerk, which is why he was somewhat leery of finding himself associated with Moore. Indeed, his film in question, Soundtrack to War (trailer here) deserves to be considered separate and apart from subsequent uses, “fair” or otherwise, when it screens this Saturday as part of the Gittoes retrospective at Anthology Film Archives.

Rather than trying to trick soldiers into revealing troop movements, Gittoes went to Iraq to learn what was in the American soldiers CD players. Intuitively, it seems like there is a great deal of validity in Gittoes’ unspoken premise: if you know their music, you will know the soldier. Who were they listening to? Diana Krall.

Okay, so that was only one squad listening to Krall and it was never during times of battle, but it is still a cool endorsement. As one might expect, rap and heavy metal were far more popular, particularly to crank up during times of tension, including even combat engagements. Country is also represented, as is Gospel, which again fits our preconceptions of military tastes and values. There were also the occasional punks, but they were rather few and far between.

As Gittoes talks to the soldiers it is becomes plain some have no idea why they are there and are openly skeptical of the justifications for overthrowing Saddam Hussein. (Obviously, this was the real music to Moore’s ears.) However, many soldiers expressed unabashed patriotism and pride in their mission. Indeed, the latter were often (but not always) the more articulate of Gittoes’ interview subjects. The real take-away is that the military is not monolithic. There are considerable differences of opinion within the ranks. Yet, when deployed, they must act as one.

Although it is ostensibly all about music, most of the rap and metal tunes heard on Soundtrack’s soundtrack have a one-note repetitiveness. Still, there are a handful of originals performed a cappella or with Spartan guitar accompaniment that are quite engaging.

While Soundtrack might offer an up-close, beyond-the-headlines perspective on the realities of everyday life for American military personnel in Iraq, it is even more revealing about Gittoes’ approach to filmmaking, at least when seen in the context of AFA’s retrospective. Somehow, the servicemen immediately open up to the old school gonzo journalist. The respect is also clearly mutual, prompting his concern when their words taken out of context in Moore’s propaganda broadside.

Gittoes does not simply point, shoot, and forget. He also follows up. In fact, he would revisit one of the soldiers he documented rapping in Uday Hussein’s “gangster palace” when he returned to the mean streets of Miami in Rampage, which also screens during his upcoming retrospective. Notably balanced and once again shot at some risk to his own well being, Soundtrack is not a mind blowing revelation like Miscreants of Taliwood, but it is certainly well worth seeing when it screens this Saturday (with Rampage to follow) at the venerable Anthology Film Archives, currently celebrating its fortieth anniversary.

Spawn of Saddam: The Devil’s Double

Somewhere in the lower depths of Hell, Saddam and Uday Hussein are watching this film as they slowly roast on their spits. Graphically dramatizing the sadist brutality and drug-fueled hedonism of Saddam Hussein’s ruling family, Lee Tamahori’s The Devil’s Double (trailer here) opens this Friday in New York, after leaving Sundance audiences completely slack-jawed earlier this year.

Latif Yahia had the profound misfortune to resemble Saddam’s psychotic son Uday. Even more despised than his despot father, Uday recruited Yahia to serve as his double. It is not like the Iraqi officer is given any choice in the matter. He could either relinquish his identity to serve as Uday’s public doppelganger or his family would be tortured to death in Abu Ghraib. He knows the junior Hussein means it only too well. As his first tutorial on being Uday, Yahia is forced to watch videotape of his shadow-self at work as the head of the Iraqi Olympic Committee, raping and tormenting the nation’s athletes. It is a disturbing scene, but Double is just getting started.

Beginning during the Iran-Iraq War and continuing through the first Gulf War, Double forces viewers to witness Uday’s crimes up-close-and-personal. We watch as he abducts underage school girls straight off the street and violently rapes newlywed brides still in their wedding dresses. Truly, there is really no perversion too heinous for him.

Obviously, being a party to such crimes, albeit against his will, takes a profound emotional toll on Yahia. While his assignment progressively eats away at his soul, Yahia embarks on a dangerous affair with Sarrab, Uday’s favorite amongst his women on-call. Yet, even without their assignations, it is clear life in the House of Saddam is always brutish and short-lived.

It is one thing to intellectually concede the crimes of the Husseins, but it is quite another to confront it in such visceral and immediate terms. To its credit, Double waters down nothing. Nor does it indulge in any anti-American cheap shots. This is about Uday (and to a much lesser extent Saddam) Hussein’s crimes and Tamahori and screenwriter Michael Thomas offer them absolutely no mitigating circumstances or justifications. Indeed, the extent it depicts the Iraqi Olympic Committee as an extension of Saddam’s secret police will be a genuine revelation for many. (Though no fan of the Husseins, it is important to note the real life Yahia is also a vocal critic of the CIA and Operation Iraqi Freedom.) Yet, Tamahori never neglects the thriller aspects of Yahia’s story, keeping the tension amped up to Mountain Dew levels throughout.

In a truly intense dual role that will probably take years of analysis to recover from, Dominic Cooper gives a career-making performance as Uday and Yahia. In terms of mannerisms (and behavior), his Uday bears a strong resemblance to Pacino in Scarface. Twitchy and erratic, he is an unsettling presence, even when apparently at rest. By contrast, Cooper portrays Yahia as a serious slow burner, outraged and slowly deadened by the atrocities surrounding him. Providing further seasoning, the French Ludivine Sagnier is at her most sensual ever as Sarrab, far eclipsing her sex appeal in films like Mesrine and Chabrol’s A Girl Cut in Two.

No, Double is not a subtle film. Likely making Double even less palatable to critics, Tamahori and cinematographer Sam McCurdy rendered the film in a wickedly slick, visually dynamic style reminiscent of the 1990’s glory years of Michael Mann and Tony Scott. Without question, this is a major production, with the talented design team perfectly recreating the ostentation and tackiness of Saddam’s palaces.

Predicting unfavorable reviews for Double from politicized critics is a pretty short limb to climb out on. Its implications will threaten many world views. However, it constitutes bold, bravura filmmaking on several levels and features a truly riveting dual performance from Cooper. Highly and enthusiastically recommended, it opens this Friday (7/29) in New York at the AMC Empire 25 and Union Square 13.

Sundance ’11: The Devil’s Double

Somewhere in the lower depths of Hell, Saddam and Uday Hussein are watching this film as they slowly roast on their spits. Graphically dramatizing the sadist brutality and drug-fueled hedonism of Saddam Hussein’s ruling family, Lee Tamahori’s The Devil’s Double lands the first unequivocal knock-out punch at this year’s Sundance Film Festival, where it has one more can’t-miss public screening this Saturday.

Latif Yahia had the profound misfortune to resemble Saddam’s psychotic son Uday. Even more despised than his despot father, Uday recruited Yahia to serve as his double. It is not like the Iraqi officer is given any choice in the matter. He could either relinquish his identity to serve as Uday’s public doppelganger or his family would be tortured to death in Abu Ghraib. He knows the junior Hussein means it only too well. As his first tutorial on being Uday, Yahia is forced to watch videotape of his shadow self at work as the head of the Iraqi Olympic Committee, raping and tormenting the nation’s athletes. It is a disturbing scene, but Double is just getting started.

Beginning during the Iran-Iraq War and continuing through the first Gulf War, Double forces the audience to witness Uday’s crimes up-close-and-personal. We watch as he abducts underage school girls straight off the street and violently rapes newlywed brides still in their wedding dresses. Truly, there is really no perversion too heinous for him.

Obviously, being a party to such crimes, albeit against his will, takes a profound emotional toll on Yahia. While his assignment progressively eats away at his soul, Yahia embarks on a dangerous affair with Sarrab, Uday’s favorite amongst his women on-call. Yet, even without their assignations, it is clear life in the House of Saddam is always brutish and short-lived.

It is one thing to intellectually concede the crimes of the Husseins, but it is quite another to confront it in such visceral and immediate terms. To its credit, Double waters down nothing. Nor does it indulge in any anti-American cheap shots. This is about Uday (and to a much lesser extent Saddam) Hussein’s crimes and Tamahori and screenwriter Michael Thomas offer them absolutely no mitigating circumstances or justifications. Adding to the film’s newsworthiness, the extent it depicts the Iraqi Olympic Committee as an extension of Saddam’s secret police will be a genuine eye-opener for many. (Though no fan of the Husseins, it is important to note the real life Yahia is also a vocal critic of the CIA and Operation Iraqi Freedom.)

In a truly intense dual role that will probably take years of analysis to recover from, Dominic Cooper gives a career-making performance as Uday and Yahia. In terms of mannerisms (and behavior), his Uday bears a strong resemblance to Pacino in Scarface. Twitchy and erratic, he is an unsettling presence, even when apparently at rest. By contrast, Cooper portrays Yahia as a serious slow burner, outraged and slowly deadened by the atrocities surrounding him. Providing further seasoning, the French Ludivine Sagnier is at her most sensual ever as Sarrab, far eclipsing her sex appeal in films like Mesrine and Chabrol’s A Girl Cut in Two.

No, Double is not a subtle film. Likely making it even less palatable to critics, Tamahori and cinematographer Sam McCurdy rendered the film in a slick, visually dynamic style reminiscent of the 1990’s glory years of Michael Mann and Tony Scott. Indeed, this is a major production, with art director Charlo Dalili perfectly recreating the ostentation and tackiness of Saddam’s palaces.

Predicting unfavorable reviews for Double from the rest of the Sundance press corps is a pretty short limb to climb out on. Its implications will threaten many world views. However, it constitutes bold filmmaking on several levels. Double also serves as a pointed corrective to the Doug Liman-ACLU-PEN sponsored “performance-installation” on the alleged use of torture by the American government scheduled this Saturday. For those in Park City who really want to understand the horrors of torture, skip the performance art and try to scrounge a ticket for Double this Saturday (1/29) at the Prospector Square Theater as a Premiere selection of this year’s Sundance Film Festival.

On-Tour in Iraq: Striking a Chord

With the success of the Surge, the nature of military service in the Iraqi theater is much safer and more predictable. Of course, that is a blessing, but it also means American military personnel have more time to get bored and dwell on their separation from loved ones. However, nothing works like music to console the weary soul. Even though they might not be household names, the military brings in a number of entertainers to play for the troops, including singer-songwriter Nell Bryden, whose second tour military tour of Iraq and Kuwait provides the structure of Susan Cohn Rockefeller’s Striking a Chord (trailer here), a documentary short now playing the festival circuit.

The USO books the big name stars. The Multinational Corps handles the professional gigging artists without the fame or the egos. One such musician is Brooklyn-born Nell Bryden, the first entertainer recruited by Lt. Col. Scott Rainey, the chief of programming for the Corps. A blues-and-roots influenced pop vocalist, Bryden is a charismatic performer and a good sport. She does not simply chopper in and out for her gigs. Rockefeller shows her visiting hospitals and touring bases, talking to anyone looking for a sympathetic ear. Indeed, the rapport she quickly establishes with soldiers appears deep and genuine.

It helps when you check your politics at the airport. Several of her band members agree, noting the deep personal connections they have been able to make once they jettisoned their own political baggage. Likewise, Rockefeller tries to play it straight and avoid partisanship, largely succeeding. While bookending the film with grim expert commentary on post-traumatic stress syndrome arguably has certain implications, she also gives voice to soldiers’ frustrations that none of the good news they see unfolding in Iraq is ever reported in the western media.

Still, the personal and musical connections forged between Bryden and the soldiers she meets lie at the heart of the film. A flexible performer, she shows a strong intuitive sense of where to take each show, from Skynyrd-esque country-rock to a more R&B bag. (Produced in conjunction with songwriter Nile Rodgers’ We Are Family Foundation, his monster hit penned for Sister Sledge not surprisingly makes the set list.)

Clearly sympathetic to the men and women serving in the military, Chord makes a good faith attempt to avoid the larger controversies surrounding the war. As a result, the forty minute film is one of the better documentaries about the Iraqi conflict, of any length. Recommended as a short doc with legitimately good intentions, Chord screens tomorrow (11/6) at the Rocky Mountain Women’s Film Festival in Colorado Springs and next Friday (11/12) at the Red Rock Film Festival in Utah.

Fort Hood: Tattooed Under Fire

In the aftermath of Thursday’s tragic shooting, there might be a natural temptation to suddenly find new implications in any documentary about American soldiers, let alone those stationed at Fort Hood. Since the investigation is still underway, it is best to resist speculation and consider such a film separately. Still, while some of the Fort Hood soldiers profiled in Nancy Schiesari’s Tattooed Under Fire do indeed suffer from combat-related stress, the issues of the alleged shooter appear to be of an entirely different nature. In contrast, many of the fighting men and women she interviews seem perfectly healthy and well adjusted (but still understandably affected by their combat experiences).

They share one commonality though. The soldiers of Fort Hood estimate as many as ninety-five percent of their ranks get inked up to some extent before deploying to Iraq. Schiesari explores the significance of their tattooing ritual and many of their specific tats in Tattooed Under Fire (trailer here), which airs on PBS stations across the country starting this coming Monday (assuming it is not preempted in light of recent events).

Army regulations permit tattoos, as long as they are not visible when soldiers wear their dress uniforms. That still allows plenty of space, and some of River City Tattoo’s Army patrons are determined to use it all. Some make relatively conventional choices, like the names of family members and the like. Others opt for the morbid but practical “meat-tags:” dog-tags tattooed in strategic locations to help identify their bodies. Then there are more graphic works, like the shocking fetus in a blender.

For the enlisted soldiers of Fort Hood, the tattoo parlor appears to have replaced the traditional barber shop as a social gathering spot. As viewers hear, they often open up to their tattoo artists and each other while getting their tats freshened, telling some quite visceral stories of their Iraqi service.

Frankly, the surfeit of tattoo images in Tattooed is often kind of gross. However, rather than instilling a fresh new respect for tattoo art, Schiesari offers absorbing snapshots of soldiers before and after their tours in Iraq. Most have harrowing stories to tell, but as a group they resist generalization. Some are bitter or emotionally scarred, while others returned essentially in tact. However, the most intriguing figure is undoubtedly Travis Conques, the medic with the notorious fetus tattoo, who readily admits his Iraqi experiences greatly tempered his nihilism. Of the soldiers interviewed in Tattooed, he now sounds the most idealistic about the mission in Iraq.

Though Tattooed is relatively non-partisan, Schiesari seems to permit more skepticism than support for the war to creep into her interview segments, especially with the parlor staff. Still, she always treats the soldiers fairly and respectfully, capturing some riveting stories in the process. Clearly, she sympathizes with the soldiers, if not with their mission. She also notably dedicates the film to Louis Schiesari, MD, Army medic, WWII.

The River City Tattoo parlor comes across as an interesting sociological crossroads, where crew-cuts meet hardcore grunge. Ultimately, Tattooed brings a very human perspective to the Army clientele of the Texas tattoo salon. Each one is a specific individual who has their own story to tell, as did those who were senselessly murdered last Thursday. Let us hope their family and friends find strength and comfort in this trying time.

Tattooed’s PBS debut is scheduled for Monday night (10/9) on San Francisco’s KQED, airing locally on New York’s WNET this coming Wednesday (11/11) at 10:30 PM.

(Photo credit: Ave Bonar/ITVS)

NYKFF ’09: Jiyan

Geography has done few favors for the Kurdish people. Divided between four largely hostile countries, the Kurdistan region has seen much suffering, particularly at the hands of Saddam Hussein, who did indeed have sufficient weapons of mass destruction in 1988 for a brutal poison gas attack on Iraq’s Kurdish population. Five years later, the effects of that atrocity still linger, as one Iraqi Kurd learns when he returns to help rebuild his homeland in Jano Rosebiani’s Jiyan (trailer here), which screened during the New York Kurdish Film Festival—the first America fest dedicated to Kurdish cinema.

Diyari has not been to his ancestral home of Halabja in years, having immigrated to America following an earlier attack on his people. He has come to build an orphanage for the many children whose parents and families were killed by Saddam’s gas. It is an appropriate mission for Diyari, because he seems to have an affinity for children, particularly two young cousins, Shêrko and Jiyan, who only have each other left in the world. Though she hardly speaks, young Jiyan, whose name means “life,” forges an especially deep bond with their new benefactor.

Since the attack killed many of Halabja’s eligible bachelors, there has been little romance in the town. As a result, Diyari’s arrival definitely attracts attention, but he has a wife and two young girls back in America, and is far too noble for anything illicit on the side. Diyari is certainly a laudable protagonist and Shêrko and Jiyan are definitely strong rooting interests, but the film is a bit too sweet for its own good, with no real dramatic conflict to keep viewers focused. Still, Rosebiani elicits some very strong performances from his young actors, (Pisheng Berzinji and Choman Hawrami), and employs some very effective recurring images and motifs.

Koutaiba Al Janabi‘s lens captures the harsh unforgiving Kurdistani landscape, creating a real sense of place. However, the greatest merit of Jiyan is its depiction of the persistent effects of Saddam’s chemical weapons. It becomes clear the attack did not just happen within a discrete time period and was then safely over. Rather, it is as if the village is attacked day after day for five years, leaving a toxic environment where sandstorms become instruments of death, stirring up and dispersing the sedentary chemical agents.

While it might have benefited from a stronger narrative drive, Jiyan is quite powerful when it addresses the life-and-death issues facing Iraqi Kurdistan. It clearly was a fitting selection for the final day of the first annual New York Kurdish Film Festival.

NYKFF ’09: Crossing the Dust

His name is legion—Saddam to be exact. The Ba’athist regime used to give financial remuneration to parents who named their sons after Saddam Hussein, but now being the dictator’s namesake has lost all its prestige. In fact, for one lost little boy it is a distinct disadvantage in Shawkat Amin Korki’s Crossing the Dust (trailer here), which screened last night during the New York Kurdish Film Festival.

It is 2003 and Saddam Hussein has just been toppled, in a very literal sense. Having just watched on television as the colossal Saddam statue was spontaneously pulled down by jubilant Iraqis, with an assist from an American tank, Azad and his fellow Kurdish Peshmerga fighters erupt into celebratory song and dance. Unfortunately, Iraq is still dangerous, especially for the Peshmerga, as Azad will soon be reminded.

While on a seemingly routine delivery mission with his gruff comrade Rashid, Azad notices a frightened Arabic boy crying by the side of the road. Taking mercy on young Saddam, Azad tries to find his parents, but communication with the Arabic speaking boy proves difficult. As scared and pathetic as this Saddam might be, Rashid remains unmoved, blaming the boy for diverting them from their mission and only providing the most minimal Kurdish translation for his colleague.

As the two men veer further off course, they witness a microcosm of the Iraq War, including lootings, Ba’ath loyalist guerilla attacks, and Saddam’s mass graves. Korki certainly did not calibrate his screenplay to cater to partisans either side of the Iraq controversy. Yet, the vicious nature of Saddam’s Ba’athist regime becomes only too apparent during the course of the film. Indeed, Korki’s strongest sequence involves the visit to a newly discovered secret grave site, where Azad joins scores of other Iraqis looking for missing loved ones.

Though obviously produced on a shoestring, Korki makes a virtue of necessity, effectively capturing a documentary-like sense of post-invasion Iraq. He also elicits some impressively natural performances from his leads, Hossein Hasan and Adil Abdolrahman, who convincingly convey a complicated history shared by the two Peshmerga. While his novice child actor does alright, he never really stretches beyond looking scared and confused.

Dust readily invites comparison with Bahman Ghobadi’s Half Moon, another selection of the first NYKFF. Indeed, both chronicle Kurdish protagonists on ill-fated Iraqi road trips. While Dust also shares a similarly absurdist inclination, it is never nihilistic. Rather, it presents the boots-on-the-ground reality of Iraq through a highly moral prism. It also offers a wider perspective on the Kurdish people, featuring both Christian and Muslim Kurds as supporting characters. As a film that might challenge some preconceptions, Dust definitely deserves an audience.

The New York Kurdish Film Festival continues through Sunday (10/25) with screenings at NYU’s Kantor Film Center.

Now Opening in New York: Brothers at War

How effective is Jake Rademacher’s debut documentary about his brothers serving in the Iraq War? After they screened the film, Gary Sinise agreed to sign-on as an executive producer and John Ondrasik of Five for Fighting was inspired to write a song based on its central characters. While refraining from taking a pro or con position on the war, Rademacher’s Brothers at War (trailer here) is a deeply personal and humane examination of the American soldiers fighting in Iraq, and the impact of their service on the families they left behind, which finally plays in New York this Friday, following its targeted opening in March.

With two younger brothers serving in Iraq, the political has become the personal for actor Jake Rademacher. Wanting to better understand their deliberate decision to serve in a time of war, Rademacher went to Iraq with a bare-bones camera crew to answer the Capra-esque question of why they fight. Yet, Brothers is first and foremost about family, with all else being secondary.

Though his youngest brother Sgt. Joe Rademacher is home between deployments when the filmmaker Rademacher arrives in Iraq, the middle brother, Capt. Isaac Rademacher, is happy to embed him on missions that will give him a representative taste of the Iraqi War experience. If not directly in harm’s way, Rademacher was certainly within harm’s extended reach, eventually filming a live fire fight and an IED (Improvised Explosive Device) attack. When the Captain is unexpectedly transferred to the states for special training, the intrepid director finds himself in the unlikely position of being the only Rademacher brother then in the war zone.

Rademacher’s film can honestly be called even-handed, resisting blanket assumptions about the state of Iraq and the men serving there. Some regions of the country are shown to still be quite dangerous, while others appear quite safe. We hear the no-nonsense Staff Sgt. in charge of training Iraqi troops praise their performance under fire, but ambushes and IEDs remain a fact of life.

Many soldiers do indeed express eloquent patriotism when asked about their mission, like Spc. Christopher Mackay, who tells Rademacher matter-of-factly: “I’d give my life for America any day. Wouldn’t think twice.” However, another enlisted man is more ambivalent on the mission and conflicted about his pending re-enlistment deadline. Still, he agrees with his father’s assessment that “the caliber of the person you’re going to be working with in the military is better than the caliber of the person you’re going to meet ninety percent of the time anywhere else.”

At times, Brothers packs a real emotional punch. Surprisingly, Rademacher’s most moving interview is not with a serviceman, but with Ali, an Iraqi translator working with the troops. He has lost family, including a brother, to the insurgents in retaliation for helping the American forces, but he still expresses idealism and hope for the future.

Brothers is neither rah-rah boosterism or propaganda of any stripe, but honest filmmaking. The men serving with the Rademachers are allowed to speak for themselves, unfiltered by any editorial preconceptions. Rademacher is also brutally honest depicting his own fraternal relations, showing the open tensions between him and his youngest brother. Throughout it all, viewers will become heavily invested in the Rademacher brothers as characters in a very human drama. Truthful and complex, Brothers is a very compelling documentary that should not be dismissed by partisans on either side of the war debate. It finally opens this Friday in the City at the Loews Village 7 (11th Street and Third Ave.).

Photo: Sam Harriston / Samuel Goldwyn Films

Iraq Doc: Brothers at War

After they screened Jake Rademacher’s debut documentary, Gary Sinise agreed to sign-on as an executive producer and John Ondrasik of Five for Fighting was inspired to write a song based on its central characters. Yet despite the considerable star-power bestowed on Rademacher’s very independent film, New York is not currently part of its planned opening weekend. Too bad for the deep blue City, because Rademacher’s Brothers at War (trailer here) is a deeply personal and humane examination of the Iraq War, as well as its impact on both the American soldiers fighting there and the families they left behind. It opens this Friday, largely in markets near large military bases.

With two younger brothers serving in Iraq, the political has become the personal for actor Jake Rademacher. Wanting to better understand their deliberate decision to serve in a time of war, Rademacher went to Iraq with a bare-bones camera crew to answer the Capra-esque question of why they fight. Yet, Brothers is first and foremost about family with all else being secondary.

Though his youngest brother Sgt. Joe Rademacher is home between deployments when the filmmaker Rademacher arrives in Iraq, the middle brother, Capt. Isaac Rademacher, is happy to embed him on missions that will give him a representative taste of the Iraqi War experience. If not directly in harm’s way, Rademacher was certainly within harm’s reach, eventually filming a live fire fight and an IED (Improvised Explosive Device) attack. When the Captain is unexpectedly transferred to the states for special training, Jake finds himself in the unlikely position of being the only Rademacher brother then in the war zone.

Rademacher’s film can honestly be called even-handed, resisting blanket assumptions about the state of Iraq and the men serving there. Some regions of the country are shown to still be quite dangerous, while others appear relatively safe. We see the Staff Sgt. in charge of training Iraqi troops express pride in their performance under fire, but ambushes and IEDs remain a fact of life.

Many soldiers do indeed express eloquent patriotism when asked about their mission, like Spc. Christopher Mackay, who tells Rademacher matter-of-factly: “I’d give my life for America any day. Wouldn’t think twice.” However, another enlisted man is more ambivalent on the mission and conflicted about his pending re-enlistment deadline. Still, he agrees with his father’s assessment that “the caliber of the person you’re going to be working with in the military is better than the caliber of the person you’re going to meet ninety percent of the time anywhere else in the work world.”

At times, Brothers packs a real emotional punch. Surprisingly, Rademacher’s most moving interview is not with a serviceman, but with Ali, an Iraqi translator working with the troops. He has lost family, including a brother, to the insurgents in retaliation for helping the American forces, but he still expresses idealism and hope for the future.

Brothers is neither rah-rah boosterism or propaganda of any stripe, but honest filmmaking. The men serving with the Rademachers are allowed to speak for themselves, unfiltered by any editorial preconceptions. Rademacher is also brutally honest depicting his own fraternal relations, showing the open tensions between him and his youngest brother. Throughout it all, viewers will become heavily invested in the Rademacher brothers as characters in a very human drama. Truthful and complex, Brothers is a very compelling documentary that should not be dismissed by partisans on either side of the war debate. It opens this Friday in select markets, including the Landmark E Street in Washington, D.C., expanding to more cities in successive weeks.

Opening Tomorrow: Operation Filmmaker

Watching MTV can be a bad influence. Just ask actor Liev Schreiber, who got more than he bargained for when he flew Muthana Mohmed, a young Iraqi film student, to Prague to intern on his film Everything is Illuminated after seeing him on an MTV program. The rocky relationship between Mohmed and the Hollywood crew and his subsequent efforts to avoid returning to Baghdad are chronicled in Nina Davenport’s documentary, Operation Filmmaker , opening in New York tomorrow.

From the first day of production, it becomes clear that Mohmed and his Tinsel Town patrons just are not coming from the same place. When a condescending assistant to producer Peter Saraf explains her boss’s vegan diet: “no milk because cows make milk, no cheese, no eggs, because, you know, chicken,” the young Iraqi can barely hold in his “wtf.” Even greater are their differences of opinion on Operation Iraqi Freedom. Saraf is stunned to hear Mohmed say: “I love George Bush, he changed my life.” Mohmed asks the producer if he is disappointed to which he responds, "no," in one of the least convincing screen performances in film history.

There seem to be a number of reasons Mohmed has difficulty fulfilling his duties on the set, including cultural stereotypes about what constitutes men’s work. At an immature twenty-five, he has never really worked or taken care of himself, so he often acts like an incoming college freshman, blowing off work for parties. He is also understandably distracted by the barrage of reports from his home generated by a hostile media intent on producing defeat in Iraq.

To be fair though, Schreiber and Saraf probably should have been more specific about the less than glamorous nature of interning Hollywood-style. Saraf’s description of a good assistant is frankly cringe-inducing: “learn what kind of coffee the director likes and have it waiting for him and bringing it to him in the middle of meetings really discretely.” Reluctant to return home, Mohmed is able to stay in Prague to work on Doom, starring The Rock. Mohmed seems to become more of Saraf’s kind of assistant, forging better relations with the cast and crew of the meathead movie than he had on Schreiber’s prestige picture.

Most of the celebrities in Filmmaker, including Schreiber and Elijah Wood, appear to be shallow, self-centered, and dumb. Ironically, the Rock’s publicist will probably be happiest with the finished film. Getting sucked in to Mohmed’s drama, director Davenport becomes a reluctant character in her own film, as the expat starts to lean on her for financial and legal assistance. Clearly, he becomes extremely manipulative in the course of the film (at least as shot and cut by Davenport), but her “exit strategy” metaphor becomes tiresome.

However, Filmmaker is fascinating look at the dark side of documentary filmmaking. Like Saraf, it is pretty obvious Davenport is not a supporter of Operation Iraqi Freedom, frequently relying on CBS News for their “Iraq as quagmire” coverage, with good news, like the historic election, given short shrift. She does get credit though for including some scenes that do not conform to her world view and for not protecting the image of liberal Hollywood.

Ultimately, there are aspects of the film partisans on either side of the political spectrum will find uncomfortable. Given the ambiguity of Mohmed’s character and the circumstances of the film, it is unlikely Filmmaker will change anyone’s perception of events in Iraq. Often darkly comic, Filmmaker is really more of a cautionary tale for aspiring documentary filmmakers. This is not the film Davenport set out to make, but it is what she ended up with and it is engaging to watch. It opens in New York at the IFC Film Center tomorrow and on the Island at Cinema Arts Centre on the 10th. (Photos courtesy of First Run/Icarus Films)

Superheroes

It was nice knowing you Jack. Over the last few days the blogosphere has mourned the betrayal of 24 by its new hand-wringing writers. Dirty Harry for one, is not amused with the news that next season’s Jack Bauer will be guilt-ridden by his past zealous prosecution of the war on terror, possibly even digging ditches in Africa as penance. Hello shark.

Hollywood does not get it. America wants heroes to kill the bad guys before they kill us. Many comic book writers do not seem to get it either. At a time when America faces a grave threat from Islamist terrorism, Marvel Comics decided to off Captain America. It sounds like he was dying a slow death anyway, with the final storyline for the Steve Rogers’ Cap fighting more against the American government and its fictional policy requiring the public identification and registration of superheroes.

Marvel has already announced a new Captain will rise again, but based on their polemical plot points in the past, it is hard to muster much enthusiasm. There is however, a new updated Captain America surrogate for the War on Terror. His name is Matamoros. Sgt. Chuck Sobietti was seriously wounded in Iraq, but is reconstructed by the Army’s experimental medical treatments, which seem to give him heightened physical abilities, much like the late Captain (whose comic death they directly reference).

In true government fashion, once the army rebuilds him, they thank him for his service, sending him back to civilian life. In the first issue, he uncovers a terrorist ring and takes care of business. Matamoros, so-dubbed by a fuming civil liberties attorney after Santiago Matamoros (St. James the Moor-Slayer), is not about to dig ditches. Written by Sleet and Darius Lamonica and illustrated by John Cox of Cox & Forkum fame, it is definitely not politically correct, but it might become the only outlet to get your Bauer on.

Frustratingly, there are very few graphic novel depictions of the courageous service of our troops in Iraq. Yet depicting heroism is what comics have always historically done. Naturally, there have been several anti-Iraqi Freedom comics published. Several came from companies affiliated with my publishing house, so I can not discuss them even if I wanted to (thank you conflict of interest).

There has been one notable exception: Combat Zone: True Tales of GIs in Iraq. Written by former embedded journalist and AEI scholar Karl Zinsmeister, and published back in 2005 by—give them due credit—Marvel Comics, Zone depicts the on the ground realities of Operation Iraqi Freedom.

Throughout Zone, the American forces take great pains to avoid civilian casualties. The Fedayeen though, have no such scruples. Col. Kirkwood tells his men:

“We’ve all seen things here we never thought we’d see in our lives. Gunmen dragging women and children by the hair, using them as human shields. Shooters attacking us from hospital windows, with patients lying in beds next to them.” (p. 95)

While the names have been fictionalized in Zone, the heroism is real. It is much more compelling than the standard fare coming from both Hollywood and graphic novel publishers. Zinsmeister is now with the administration, making a sequel to Zone unlikely, but at least we can presumably look forward to the next installment from Matamoros.

Jazz Diplomacy

“I’m the real ambassador
It was evident I was sent by government to take your place
All I do is play the blues and meet the people face to face
I’ll explain and make it plain; I represent the human race and don’t pretend to more”

Those were among the lyrics delivered by Louis Armstrong, “Ambassador Satch,” in Dave Brubeck’s original musical The Real Ambassadors. Set against the backdrop of the U.S. State Department’s popular jazz goodwill programs, Armstrong plays one such touring musician, mistaken for an actual bureaucratic Ambassador as represented by Lambert, Hendricks, and Ross ( singing lyrics like: “we have followed protocol with absolute propriety, we’re Yankees to the core”).

The obvious implication was a jazz musician could influence many more hearts and minds abroad than a state department functionary. What was true in the 1960’s is true today. Enter the organization American Voices, plugged in this month’s Jazz Times. David Adler’s guest column quotes Dr. Gene Aitken, a jazz instructor for the organization, who had recently conducted clinics in Iraq:

“It was the experience of a lifetime,” Aitken exclaims. There were roughly 50 jazz students, ranging from 15 to 50 years of age. “They had barely any previous exposure to jazz,” Aitken says, “but they had a thirst for information, and the progress from day one to the end was tremendous. I’ve never encountered anything as meaningful.”

In February of this year, the group produced workshops and a concert with the Iraqi National Symphony Orchestra, culminating in orchestral performances of Duke Ellington’s “Sophisticated Lady” and “It Don’t Mean a Thing If It Ain’t Got That Swing.” In JT Ferguson attributes why jazz (about 25% of their programming) has proved such a successful component in their presentations: “People who have close contact with traditional music take to jazz very easily.” Their Unity Performing Arts Academy, at which Aitken taught this July, proved the universal appeal of jazz and other American forms of music, successfully bringing together 300 musicians from around Iraq, including Kurdistan, representing Shiites, Sunnis, and Christians to form a special Unity Orchestra.

American Voices has been active in Afghanistan as well, producing in late 2005 the first concert by American artists in twenty-five years, performing in collaboration with native musicians. Executive director John Ferguson explained to Downbeat magazine: “The musicians we were working with had all gone to Pakistan during the Taliban era because they were chopping off the hands of musicians in Afghanistan.”

One could argue that jazz’s free spirit and democratic nature are also very appealing to a formerly oppressed people. After all, Willis Conover’s jazz program Music USA was by far the most popular programming on Voice of America during the Cold War. American Voices are finding a similar desire for what jazz represents in their current work in the Middle East and beyond.

Clearly, this is an organization worthy of support. In addition to producing clinics and concerts, they also supply local musicians with instruments and charts. Their efforts obviously qualify as good news from Iraq, at a time when many wish to deny any such thing is possible for their own extremist partisan motives. You can support American Voices’ efforts here, and check out some of their work on youtube here.

Return to Kirkuk

Return to Kirkuk: A Year in the Fire
Produced by Karzan Sherabayani
Eagle Media

“President Bush is a sacred person.” Not exactly the words you would expect to hear spoken in a documentary that aired on the BBC, Al Jazeera International and Frontline, but Karzan Sherabayani’s Return to Kirkuk resists the temptation to play to partisans on either side of the war to liberate Iraq.

At the age of fourteen, the Kurdish Sherabayani was imprisoned and tortured by Saddam Hussein’s secret police. His freedom was eventually ransomed by his older brother, leading Sherabayani to spend the next thirty years in exile in England. Kirkuk documents his return to his Kurdish homeland at a pivotal point in its history.

When he returned, the Kurds were granted the Kurdistan Autonomous Region under a proposed federal system of government. However, Sherabayani’s home city of Kirkuk was not including in this territory. Oh, and there’s oil there. A lot: “Kirkuk sits on 10 billion barrels of oil, worth over US$700 billion. This is more than twice the oil reserves of Texas.”

Sherabayani expresses great resentment for the British for partitioning Kurdistan in 1921 and for Americans abandoning the Kurdish resistance during the first Gulf War. Yet he has no false nostalgia for the Saddam regime, having experienced its savagery first hand.

In a particularly chilling sequence, Sherabayani returns to the cell in which he was tortured, reliving the horror of an experience that obviously still haunts him. He is not the only survivor we hear from. We meet, for instance, the elderly woman (a longtime family friend), who described Pres. Bush as “sacred.” Another friend adds: “We should make golden statues of Mr. Bush & Mr. Blair, and put them in every city.”

The act of voting is an important theme in Kirkuk. Sherabayani states: “For many years I have never had a chance to vote in this country, and now, in one year, this is the third time.” As Sherabayani shows viewers Iraqi and Kurdish citizens risking their lives to vote, it is impossible to miss the significance.

Yet, Sherabayani is also pessimistic about the future, often predicting civil war. He criticizes American military policies and frequently advocates an independent Kurdish state. Given the Kurdish support for coalition forces, he makes a decent case.

Kirkuk is told through a very personal, often moving, prism that conveys much about the actual state of affairs for the Kurds in Iraq. It is informative without conforming to preconceived prejudices. If only the same could be said for more of what the BBC and Frontline (let alone Al Jazeera) programmed.