Unmasking Jihadi John

With all respects to the movie Yesterday, the world would have been a much better place without these certain Beatles—namely the quartet of Daesh terrorists dubbed “The Beatles” by their Western hostages, because of their British accents. By far, the most notorious was the one referred to as “Jihadi John” in the media, because he is the one who committed the atrocities in the infamous beheading videos. There is plenty of biographical detail, but all the really difficult questions are skirted in Anthony Wonke’s Unmasking Jihadi John: Anatomy of a Terrorist, which premieres this Wednesday on HBO.

Mohammed Emwazi was born in Kuwait, but his family soon immigrated to London to escape tribal oppression. During his early school days, he was a shy Manchester United fan, but he turned more delinquent in his teen years. Inevitably, radical Islam offered a worldview that excused him of all responsibility, making him the poor victim.

Emwazi’s terrorist sympathies were no secret to the British authorities. In fact, they intercepted him during his first attempt to wage jihad in Iraq. Much is made of this episode, during which time a British intelligence officer tried to turn him into an asset. Wonke and screenwriter Richard Kerbaj are determined to frame this as a tipping point, pushing him into radicalism, but this seems to rather overstate matters, since he was already determined to commit acts of terrorism against his former country.

Regardless, he would indeed enlist with Daesh (Wonke and Kerbaj refer to it by the terrorists’ preferred term, ISIS), just as it was emerging as the successor to Al-Qaeda among the hearts and minds of violent Islamists. Eventually, he and three other British born terrorist-traitors took a leading role holding and eventually executing a group of Western hostages, including James Foley.

As we know from the horrific footage, it was Emwazi who slit their throats on camera. Clearly, he was chosen for the job precisely because of his London accent. It did indeed create a firestorm, but Wonke and Kerbaj try to present it purely in terms of sensationalistic journalism and the disbelief that one of our Britain’s own could turn on his own country.

They completely ignore the wider point about what the Emwazi case says about radical Islam. He was not oppressed by Israel or brutalized in a refugee camp. He didn’t even suffer from long bouts of unemployment. Instead, his history suggests there is something intrinsically violent and anti-social in his Islamist world view. Right, Wonke and Kerbaj would rather have us move along, wanting us to think there is nothing to see here.

There is still some informative dot-connecting with respects to Daesh’s operations, but that is nuts and bolts stuff, rather than deep insights. Frankly, the film almost could pass for an effort to forestall such in-depth analysis, despite the participation of experts, including the unexpected presence of Gen. David Patraeus. Somewhat disappointing, Unmasking Jihadi John need not be considered required viewing when it premieres Wednesday (7/31) on HBO.

Mali Blues: When Islamists Killed the Music

Timbuktu is sort of like the New Orleans of Mali. It is not the capitol or the commercial center, but it is the seat of the nation’s musical soul. Generations of musicians have lived there amid the storied city’s distinctive architecture, until armed Islamist terrorists forcibly occupied the city. Sharia law was proclaimed, shrines were razed, music was forbidden, and musicians were forced into exile within their own homeland. Although the occupation is over, the risk of Islamist violence remains for residents the regions musicians, many of whom remain in Bamako. Four prominent Malian musicians do their best to take stock and carry on in Lutz Gregor’s documentary, Mali Blues (trailer here), which opens today in New York.

Remember Timbuktu and neighboring Kidal and Gao next time someone claims Sharia Law is really quite benign and it doesn’t really mean anything anyway. In accordance with Sharia, Taureg guitarist Ahmed ag Kaedi’s gear was burned by the terrorists, who then promised his parents they would break all his fingers when they caught him. Obviously, the oppression of Timbuktu was a profoundly dangerous turn of events for singer-songwriter-actress Fatoumata Diawara (simply called “Sia” by thousands of fans, in reference to her best-known film role), considering her use of music to protest female genital mutilation and to process her own history as refugee fleeing an arranged marriage.

Bassekou Kouyaté represents both the veneration of custom and the spirit of innovation, neither of which were acceptable to the Islamists, who prefer stagnation. He modernized his sound on the ngoni, an ancient ancestor of the banjo, with pick-ups and a wah-wah pedal. Kouyaté also happens to be a griot, so by silencing him, the Islamists silence a tradition that dates back centuries.

However, the most “Western” influenced is also the most outspokenly defiant. In his visceral protest rap, Master Soumy explicitly challenges the Islamists: “Torture, rape, thrashings, explain your Islam! Abuse and killings, explain your Islam! Kalashnikovs and bombs, explain your Islam!” That song takes some serious guts. Musicians have been killed for far milder lyrics—in Mali.

In fact, the four focal artists in Mali Blues represent profiles in courage, just by continuing to perform their music. Yet, Gregor often waters down the inherent drama of their lives with his quiet, long-take observational approach. Frankly, there are too many scenes of his subjects staring off in a mournful revelry, contemplating what has been lost to the forces of ignorance and intolerance. If ever there was a film that could use a bit more righteous indignation, it would be this one. Nevertheless, the dignity and talent of Diawara and company shines through and it is impressive. Recommended for its message and its music, Mali Blues opens today (6/30) in New York, at the IFC Center.

They Will Have to Kill Us First: Sharia Law Targets Musicians

Making a short term tactical alliance with Islamist jihadists is always a long term strategic blunder. Just ask the advocates of liberal democracy who aligned themselves with Islamic fundamentalists during the Iranian Revolution and the Arab Spring in Egypt. Yet, perhaps the most tragic example came to pass in Mali, where Touareg separatists in the North joined forces with the Al Qaida backed Ansar Dine. When Islamist forces took control of northern Mali they razed ancient cultural and religious sites in the fabled city of Timbuktu and prohibited all forms of music. Johanna Schwartz follows several Malian musicians as they try to regain their voices in They Will Have to Kill Us First (trailer here), which opens today in New York.

French forces have mostly driven out the jihadists, but you still wouldn’t exactly call the northern regions safe. The government and Touareg rebels have also signed an armistice, but you wouldn’t exactly say the nation is at peace. The national scars from the Sharia-based oppression will run deep for generations to come. Musicians had to renounce their art and livelihoods or suffer the sort horrors depicted in Abderrahmane Sissako’s Oscar-nominated Timbuktu.

The musicians of Songhoy Blues all originally hailed from the famous northern UNESCO World Heritage City, but they came together as a band while living in Bamako, as exiles in their country. Alarmed by the extent to which Malian music had been silenced, they found a way to express their frustrations through “forbidden” music. Fadimata “Disco” Walett Oumar is also relatively fortunate. She is able to sing quite often with the women’s support groups she organizes in Burkina Faso refugee camps. Khaira Arby also performs somewhat regularly, mostly in private get-togethers, but she will spearhead the first public concert in Timbuktu, in the uncertain days following the fall of Sharia. Sadly, troubadour Moussa Ag Sidi had the most to learn about the realities of Sharia. Aside from complicating his musical calling, he assumed it would have little direct effect on him as a believing Muslim. Then his wife was arrested.

There are some telling moments in TWHTKUF, yet it never matches the power of Sissako’s modern masterpiece (but that is admittedly a high standard to be measured against). Frustratingly, the experiences of the Malian musicians remain all too timely, especially as Western legal jurisdictions have started proposing some form of recognition of Sharia authority within immigrant communities. This is an extremely bad idea. Remember how Kevin Bacon couldn’t dance in Footloose? Take that, raise it to the power of a million and add in public beatings and executions. That is what the Malian musicians experienced under Sharia.

There is some lovely and groovy music in TWHTKUF, but rather perversely, the doc is not a great showcase for the music (soundtrack available on Knitting Factory Records). Instead, Schwartz seems more interested in capturing a story of women’s empowerment in the face of misogynist oppression. That is certainly a valuable and often inspiring program too, but world music fans would probably still like to hear longer takes of their performances. Regardless, there is more truth in Schwartz’s film than several dozen of the latest documentaries released in theaters, all aggregated together. Chilling and stirring, They Will Have to Kill Us First opens today (3/4) in New York, at the Village East.

HRWFF ’11: Love Crimes of Kabul

Witness Islamic Sharia Law in practice. It is impossible to consider it anything less than institutionalized misogyny after observing the prosecution of “moral crimes” in Afghanistan. With remarkable frankness, Iranian-American filmmaker Tanaz Eshaghian takes viewers inside the Badam Bagh women’s prison, where half the inmates are incarcerated on dubious morals charges in Love Crimes of Kabul, one of the laudable selections of the 2011 Human Rights Watch Film Festival that actually addresses human rights abuses.

All three of Kabul’s primary POV figures are young women, who should have had promising futures ahead of them. All three stand accused of the heinous crime of premarital sex, but only one of them actually engaged in what would be perfectly legal behavior in a rational society. Not to be spoilery, but care to guess which one gets the most lenient sentence? Indeed, it quickly becomes apparent that justice has no place whatsoever in Islamic Law.

Easily the most shocking case is that of seventeen year old Sabereh, who simply had the misfortune to be caught eating a meal alone with a boy. Suspiciously, when a medical examination confirms her virginity, the prosecution switches gears, charging her with sodomy, the equivalent of going nuclear. Of course, Eshaghian’s cameras were banned from Sabereh’s trial, lest the railroading be exposed to sunlight, but the fix was obviously in.

At first, Kabul makes the audience’s blood boil, but as the full implications of the injustices perpetrated in Badam Bagh become clear, viewers’ stomachs will turn to ice. Eschewing talking heads and voiceovers, Eshaghian captures a visceral sense of life for the accused. She also records some brutally honest conversations as the women struggle with their Kafkaesque situations. Despite the relatively short running time, Eshaghian patiently lets scenes play out so viewers can appreciate their full import. Though her overall access is quite impressive, when her cameras are banned (as during Sabereh’s “trial”), the significance is similarly inescapable.

While Eshaghian’s unfiltered approach is undeniably bold and bracing, she leaves one rather obvious question largely unexplored. In fact, one of the most striking aspects of Kabul is the considerable presence of toddlers in Badam Bagh, who were either delivered whilst their mothers serving their time or were essentially abandoned by their fathers. Strangely though, Kabul never tackles the issue of these true innocents growing up behind bars.

The injustices faced by the women of Badam Bagh in general and young Sabereh in particular demand official American intervention. No doubt, our current administration will get right on that, sometime after the U.S. Open. A shocking indictment, Kabul is a worthy companion film to The Green Wave, both of which are highly recommended at this HRWFF. It screens this coming Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday (6/20-6/22) at the Walter Reade Theater. Part of HBO’s Documentary Films Summer Series, Kabul also premieres on the network July 11th.

Documentary Fortnight ’10: The Miscreants of Taliwood

If the Taliban mullahs want to call you something heavy, they will probably label you a miscreant (a villainous heretic). Unfortunately for entertainment-starved Pakistanis, just about everyone involved in artistic endeavors are automatically considered miscreants, most definitely including actors and filmmakers. Ironically though, the cottage Pashto film industry was largely based in the Taliban stronghold of Peshawar, which is where Australian filmmaker George Gittoes took his camera for an up-close and personal look at militant intolerance in The Miscreants of Taliwood (trailer here), which screens during the MoMA’s annual Documentary Fortnight.

If truth be told, Gittoes was probably fortunate to live through the first thirty seconds of Miscreants. Fortunately, he was only roughed up a bit while filming Islamists building a bonfire of CDs and DVDs in Islamabad, a city that Gittoes reminds viewers contains nuclear weapons. However, as Gittoes pursues his story, he becomes increasingly a part of his own film, at considerably further risk to his own well being.

While it is ordinarily annoying to see filmmakers inject themselves into their own documentaries, Gittoes was hardly motivated by self-aggrandizement. To gain access to the world Pashto filmmaking, he became an actor himself, forming a fast friendship with his co-star Javed Musazai. When the Taliban terrorized Taliwood into submission, Gittoes finances two films on his own, in order to keep the documentary going. Though hardly well-heeled, Gittoes is able to scrape together seven grand, sufficient funds for two Pashto films.

Frankly, Gittoes’s self-financed Pashto films look dreadful (particularly his comedy) and the director is the first to admit he is an awful actor. Based on the clips seen in Miscreants, Pashto cinema in general looks like low rent Bollywood, but Gittoes offers an important caveat. Pakistani filmmaking is in its infancy, and it will presumably develop in interesting directions, provided the Islamist authorities allow it the basic freedom to exist.

Gittoes probably risked bringing a fatwa down on his head simply for championing “Miscreant” filmmaking as an infidel outsider. However, Miscreants delves far deeper, addressing sensitive cultural subjects no previous films has had the guts to touch. Pulling no punches, Gittoes explains how the extreme segregation of the sexes caused most men in North-West provinces to go on the down-low, regularly engaging in homosexual sex, despite their hetero orientation. Again, Gittoes is probably lucky to be alive.

Miscreants is a blockbuster doc that alternates between moments of high camp and utter horror. Viewers should understand from the outset that the film often reflects the idiosyncratic aesthetics of Gittoes’s Taliwood colleagues. The result is unlike anything most viewers have seen before, particularly in a deadly serious documentary.

Even if you are not easily surprised, there are moments in the film that will drop any jaw. From midget comedians to mad mullahs, Miscreants pretty much has it all. It is also one of the few documentaries that can legitimately be called bold, since Gittoes undeniably put himself in harm’s way to make it. Highly recommended, it screens at MoMA on Thursday (2/18) and Friday (2/19), with Gittoes in attendance for post-screening Q&A’s.

HRW ‘09: Afghan Star

Yes, there really is an Afghan version of American Idol. The good news is that the show has provided many Afghans their first experience with the democratic voting process, which they have readily embraced. The bad news is it also illustrates fundamental Islam’s persistent hostility towards women, when even the most innocuous “dance” generates death threats for one female contestant. Such is the mixed report card on contemporary Afghan society presented in Havana Marking’s Afghan Star (trailer here), a documentary of the unlikely talent show screening tonight as part of the Human Rights Watch Film Festival in advance of its theatrical opening this Friday.

Operating relatively free from both religious and state interference, the Tolo network has allowed Afghan Star’s producers to pursue their original conception for the show. Idealist capitalists, they envisioned the talent show as a meritocratic contest that would transcend ethnic identification and instill a confidence in the democratic process. So far, the results have been mixed. As Marking documents, the Afghan Star followers have adopted the techniques of democratic campaign to a far greater extent the American Idol fans, but their support is almost entirely based on ethnic identification.

Marking follows four finalists, two of whom are women in what would appear to be a significant social development. Hailing from the traditional Kandahar region, Lima scrupulously maintains appearances. Given local prejudices, she must take music lessons clandestinely. In contrast, Setara is more flamboyant, at least by medieval standards, showing a bit of flair with her makeup and accessories. However, when she dares to improvise a few physical embellishments during one performance—what would be considered Grandma moves in the West—she finds herself the focus of Islamist death threats.

Star makes a strong case that Tolo’s talent show is an enormously significant development for the country. Watching it seems to be a unifying cultural experience, even if viewers still vote according to their ethnicity. However, by insisting on giving the four finalists equal attention, we spend far too much with the two male contestants, who frankly are not nearly as interesting as their female counterparts. Unlike, Lima and Setara, they are not risky anything by participating and seem content to entrust their Star campaigns to leaders of their respective communities. Probably the boldest, most intriguing characters though, are the producers themselves, whose behind-the-scenes work on the show could have easily sustained the entire film.

Star is an excellent choice for the Human Rights Watch Film Festival. One hopes organizers will not ignore the clear violent misogyny of contemporary Islamists, which is probably the gravest threat to human rights in the world today. Unfortunately, this year’s festival is largely dominated by politically correct offerings, and has no programming relevant to the turbulent events unfolding in Iran, which is arguably the leading human rights story of the year so far.

NYJFF: The Wedding Song

He was one of the Third Reich’s most vicious propagandists, inflaming Arab anti-Semitism, inciting attacks on Mid East Jewry, and even recruiting thousands of volunteers for special Islamic Waffen-SS units. Yet the Grand Mufti of Jerusalem’s activities during World War II and the Arabic collaboration he inspired have been largely forgotten in recent years. Against this dramatic historical backdrop, life becomes quite precarious for Tunisia’s Jewish citizens in Karin Albou’s The Wedding Song (French trailer here), which screens during this year’s New York Jewish Film Festival.

Two young women, the Jewish Myriam and Muslim Nour, are interested in love, not war. However, war finds them regardless in 1942 Tunisia, thanks to periodic Allied bombings. Unfortunately, in the short run, these make life more difficult for the Jews of Tunis. As part of its strategy to secure Arabic support, the occupying National Socialists demand reparation payments from Tunisian Jews, which Myriam’s mother cannot afford.

In a twist of fate, the war becomes the catalyst for each woman’s very different marriage. Despite her protests, Myriam’s mother arranges her marriage to Raoul, a wealthy doctor many years her senior, in exchange for the money demanded of them by the National Socialists. Conversely, Nour is happily betrothed to her cousin Khaled, but her father has withheld his final consent until her unemployed fiancé gets a job. This he achieves with the German occupying forces, assisting with the round-ups of Tunisian Jews.

As would be expected, the circumstances of the occupation put a strain on the young women’s friendship. Ripe for anti-Semitic propaganda, the Islamist Khaled forbids Nour from seeing Myriam. Of course, as the one who taught Nour to read Arabic, Khaled might also consider Myriam a dangerous influence on his prospective wife, possibly encouraging her to think for herself.

Given its traditional Tunisian settings, the sexual frankness of Song is quite surprising. Albou’s camera inspects every inch of her lead actresses’ bodies, to the extent that one might legitimately fear for the safety of Olympe Borval, the actress playing Nour. At times, the film seems excessively graphic, as when we see the rather invasive preparations Myriad undergoes for her wedding night. However, Albou’s direction can be quite sensitive, capturing some remarkable performances, particularly from Lizzie Brochere as Myriam. Her perspective on the German forces is also quite effective. Seen as boots on the floor or shadowy figures in the street, her camera refrains from direct eye contact, and thereby never humanizes them in any sense.

Song is an intimately human film, focusing squarely on the personal dramas of Myriam and Nour rather than the wider issues of war and ideology. Still, its depiction of occupied Tunis convincingly evokes the confusion and desperation of the time. Even though it concludes a bit abruptly, Song is finely crafted film that completely immerses viewers in a very specific time, place, and culture. Definitely recommended, it screens at the NY Jewish Film Festival this Thursday (1/22) and Saturday (1/24), with director Albou in attendance.

Kite Runner, the Film

Kite flying is practically a contact sport in Afghanistan. It is also surprisingly cinematic in Marc Forster’s adaptation of Khaled Hosseini’s bestselling The Kite Runner. As has been said before, Kite Runner (trailer here) is a work of fiction, but it deserves credit for its unflinchingly realistic portrayal of life under the Taliban regime. It is also a very personal story about the bonds of friendship and family.

As the film opens, debut novelist Amir Agha’s guilt-ridden past intrudes on his life of domestic tranquility in America. Summoned to Pakistan by a close friend of the family, we see his early years in Afghanistan unfold through flashbacks. The Kite Runner is actually Hassan, the son of the loyal family retainer. A close friend of Amir, Hassan has a particular talent for chasing down the trophy kites “cut” by the young protagonist during the dog fight contests that animated the Kabul skies before the Taliban’s prohibition.

In Kite, the past has an ever tangible effect on the present, as one moment of shame undoes the boys’ friendship and colors every succeeding event of Amir’s life. The young actors in these roles are far superior to most child stars seen in Hollywood films. Watching them, there is no doubt of the gravity of the situations playing out on screen. As young Amir, Zekira Ebrahimi probably has as much screen time as Khalid Abdalla gets as adult Amir, which might make it difficult to delineate lead and supporting performances for purposes of award nominations.

As Amir’s father (Baba), Iranian actor Homayoun Ershadi gives a particularly award worthy performance. The character of Baba provides the film’s moral center. In a formative scene, he explains to Amir that theft is the greatest sin of all, because it is the basis of all other crimes—theft of one’s life, theft of a loved one’s life, theft of the truth, and so on. He has no use for the mullahs or the Communists, complaining before the invasion: ““the Mullahs want to control our souls, while the Communists deny we have any.”

Shaun Toub also gives an effecting performance in the role of the family friend Rahim Khan, which is likely to be underappreciated for its understated dignity. We see Khan recognize and encourage young Amir’s literary talents, and the lasting impact of his kind attention. It is the sort of noble character that we rarely see in contemporary movies.

Kite is scrupulously honest in its portrayal of the brutality and corruption of both the Soviets and the Taliban. We see a burkha clad woman stoned to death in a Taliban public assembly. It is a disturbing, but necessary scene, as is the now infamous assault scene, which led to the concerns for the young actors’ safety. It is horrifying, but not exploitative. Director Forster handled these challenges well, crafting a very impressive film.

At its core, Kite is a story about family, but it does not happen in a vacuum. Its frighteningly realistic backdrop of a land scarred by Communist occupiers and Islamic Fascism heightens the drama and gives the film additional relevance. It opens today on 35 screens, including the Sunshine in New York.

(Note: For New Yorkers, as good as Kite Runner is, remember to also check out Singing Revolution this weekend while you can.)

Coming Soon: Persepolis

Take heart, there are some very good movies set to release soon, and believe it or not, one of them is actually based on a graphic novel. While many live-action adaptations, like V for Vendetta with its immature nihilism, come across as juvenile, the animated Persepolis, has some serious and very grown-up insights to offer. Based on the graphic novels of Marjane Satrapi, and directed by her and her colleague in comic art, Vincent Paronnaud, Persepolis chronicles its creator’s turbulent coming of age years, both in post-revolutionary Iran, and while living in exile in Austria. 

Like Kite Runner, a good portion of Persepolis is told through an extended flashback, as Satrapi waits for the flight that will return her to Iran after years away. Through her eyes, we see the Islamic Revolution unfold, soon followed by the horrors of the Iran-Iraq War, and then her often chaotic European sojourn. Though her family despised the Shah, they quickly recognize the new regime will be worse. 

Satrapi and her mother (voiced by Catherine Deneuve) suddenly find themselves forced to wear the veil. Sometimes the Islamist policies seem absurd, as when the older Satrapi, now in art school, finds herself sketching a model in a shapeless Burkha. However, there is nothing amusing for the young protagonist when she visits her beloved uncle in prison, understanding full well it is to be the last time she will see him alive.

The animated Satrapi is a natural rebel. She is attracted to western style hard rock, finding subversive freedom in the music (echoing the sentiments of Tom Stoppard’s Rock ‘n’ Roll). She is not afraid to argue a point when fed a line of propaganda by her teachers which is contradicted by her own experiences. That independent spirit would prove dangerous in the Ayatollah’s Iran, leading her parents to send her abroad for her protection. 

 Animated in the style of its source material, almost entirely in black and white, Persepolis presents a compelling vision. Quirky and sometimes dark, Satrapi’s characters at times suggest a restrained Charles Adams. Persepolis often grapples with some meaty political issues, like the role of women in Islamic society. 

Yet, at its core Persepolis is a family story. Like real life, Persepolis is episodic in nature. Some sequences are more interesting than others, but several are brilliantly powerful. Especially effective are the scenes of Satrapi and her grandmother (voiced by Danielle Darrieux), who teaches her granddaughter honor (particularly when living under oppression) and helps Satrapi make important decisions, through the example of her own free-spirited life. 

 The title Persepolis refers to the seat of the ancient Persian Empire (thank you production notes), nodding to Iran’s ancient legacy of learned culture. Tragically, the government of Iran today allows no place for the talents of a free thinker like Satrapi. To their credit, the French do enough to have nominated Persepolis as their official selection for the 2007 Academy Awards’ best foreign language film. It is a worthy selection—a dramatic vision of growing up in a country gone mad. It opens Christmas Day in New York at the Angelika.

Opening Soon: Kite Runner

The events of Kite Runner are not real. It is a fictional motion picture. However, some in the Islamist world seem to have trouble distinguishing cinema from reality. While Kite Runner might not be “real,” it is most definitely realistic in its portrayal of the extremism and depravity of the Taliban regime, which might be the actual problem behind the recent controversies.

Opening December 14th, Kite Runner is a well crafted film (trailer here) based on the bestselling novel by Khaled Hosseini. A full review of the film as a work of cinema will go up then, but after screening the film, it raises some topical issues deserving separate attention. By now, concerns for the safety of Kite’s child stars, particularly Ahmad Khan Mahmoodzada, whose character is raped by an older boy (who happens to be an Islamist) have been widely reported. Again, this is a work of fiction. Even if the Islamic world has trouble telling fantasy from reality, one would think they would have compassion or the victim of a horrific attack. Evidently not.

Indeed, the film is willing to shine an uncomfortable spotlight on the blame-the-victim syndrome prevalent in Islamist regimes like that of the Taliban. Kite unflinchingly depicts the stoning to death of a burkha-clad woman for adultery. As a form of execution, it is both cruel and cowardly, inflicting gruesome pain, but not requiring any hands-on effort from the “men” performing this ritualized public murder. Kite actually seems to raise questions regarding the sexuality of the Taliban enforcers. In addition to their misogynistic enforcement of Sharia law, pedophilic predators are presented as another constant danger stemming from the mullahs in power.

Though the film graphically depicts the Taliban’s reign of terror, it does not let the Soviets off the hook either. In many ways, the father of the film’s protagonist serves as the film’s moral compass. Just before the Soviet invasion he complains to the effect that: “the Mullahs want to control our souls, while the Communists deny we have any.”

Indeed, Iranian actor Homayoun Ershadi’s performance as “Baba,” Amir’s father, is one of two performances worthy of an Academy Award nomination for best supporting actor. Shaun Toub’s touching turn as the close friend of the family, Rahim Khan, is the second. Actually parsing lead from supporting roles in Kite might prove difficult, as young Amir probably has just as much screen time as adult Amir. It really is an ensemble piece with the entire cast turning in fine work.

Kite is often intense, and it nicely handles the challenge of devoting its first half to an extended flashback. The now infamous assault scene is indeed horrifying, but not lurid. It is an emotionally engaging and frequently terrifying film that deserves serious consideration.

Darfur Now Opens

When a film is made on an important topic in need of greater attention, but fails in its execution, it is particularly disappointing. Such is the case with Theodore Braun’s documentary Darfur Now opening in New York today.

As detailed in a previous post DN actually whitewashes the genocide of Christians and Animists in the 1990’s, basically giving the regime a free pass for crimes committed during “a period of civil war.” The Islamist nature of the Sudanese government is also glossed over and its history of sheltering Bin Laden and Al Qaeda is evidently not considered relevant. What we see all too much of is Hollywood celebrity worship run amok, which really undercuts the film’s integrity.

DN follows six individuals identified for doing something to “make a difference” in Darfur. Only two are actually Sudanese. Ahmed Mohammed Akakar is a former pillar of his Darfur village, now trying to hold his community together in a refuge camp. Hejewa Adam is a grieving mother who joined the rebels in response to the murder of her son. Their stories are clearly compelling, but are the least developed in the film.

Conversely, the face shown most often is that of student-activist Adam Sterling, spearheading a campaign to divest California’s pension funds from companies doing business with Sudan. It is a good cause, which frankly ought to be expanded to all countries which sponsor terrorism. However, the often over-wrought Sterling’s dramatics border on embarrassing. It is interesting to see him get a political education though. When meeting with the legislative director of the California NAACP, Sterling finds himself grilled as to whether his palm cards were printed in a union shop, revealing the true priorities of his supposed ally.

Another subject seen too frequently is co-producer Don Cheadle. DN seems to have a new age philosophy of empowerment through activism, and Cheadle is its chief proponent. We see him at book signings earnestly urging people to “get involved.” At times it seems DN views Darfur as important not as a human tragedy, but primarily as a venue for activism, which leaves one increasingly uncomfortable. As for scenes of Cheadle writing speeches for rallies, they would be better left to Hollywood gossip shows, rather than a serious documentary.

Perhaps the most interesting characters are those involved with multi-national organizations. Pablo Recalde runs convoys of food into Darfur for the World Food Program, the importance of which is unquestionable. Also note-worthy is the work of Luis Moreno-Ocampo, the International Criminal Court’s chief prosecutor for crimes in Darfur. It is fascinating to see him build a case for genocide, and his idealistic belief in justice is laudable, but ultimately he is undone by the nature of the ICC. Despite handing down two provisional indictments after a year and a half of investigating, Ocampo has yet to see any of the perpetrators in the ICC’s docket.

Though well intentioned, ultimately DN is distracted from the real story in Darfur by its New Age empowerment philosophy. We hear too many extortions to the effect of: “don’t ask what you can do, tell us what you can do.” To its credit, it is non-partisan. In fact, Sen. Sam Brownback (R-KS) comes across best of all politicians who appear in the film. He is well informed and genuinely seems to care about Darfur when seen meeting with Cheadle. The music is also effective, with Graeme Revell’s score employing musicians from Darfur, as does the nice recasting of Stevie Wonder’s “Love’s in Need of Love Today” from Songs in the Key of Life, as a duet for Wonder and Bono.

Unfortunately, DN does little to substantially increase the general understanding of events in Darfur with what it presents on film, shying away from graphic examinations of the nature of the atrocities in Darfur. DN just gives too little attention to the full historical and political context of the genocide, and too much screen time to Hollywood activists, like Cheadle and George Clooney, who are a world away from the events in Darfur.

Coming Soon: Darfur Now

Which describes your feelings about the genocide in Darfur? A: It is a vast human tragedy perpetrated by an intolerant Islamist regime. B: It is a very sad thing that deeply touched celebrities like Don Cheadle and George Clooney. If you answered A, you will be profoundly disappointed in Darfur Now. If you answered B, this is the film for you.

Darfur Now opens November 2nd, and a full review will be posted then. Despite its unquestioned good intentions, DN is undone by its poor historical context and questionable celebrity worship. Written and directed by Theodore Braun, DN provides precious little context into why the genocide is happening. While the filmmakers do explain Sudan is ruled by the National Islamic Front, they do not mention NIF’s ties to the Muslim Brotherhood, the international jihadist organization. The NIF established Sharia law and embarked on an ethnic cleansing campaign against Christians and animists in the south, but DN does not think these facts are relevant, glossing over the 1990’s as a period of “civil war.”

Darfur Now’s reason for being is to raise consciousness of genocide in Darfur, yet ignores past genocide itself. The trailer makes this clear, explicitly dating the beginning of the genocide at 2003. Conservatives have criticized Hollywood activists for turning a blind eye to Sudan’s genocidal campaign against Christians, only belatedly stirring to action when the Wahhabist government began its mass murder of the moderate Sunni Muslims of the south. Unfortunately, DN will further support that argument.

While DN’s grasp of history might be lacking, its coverage of celebrity activism is slavishly comprehensive. DN follows six main characters, identified for their efforts to bring positive changes to Darfur. Naturally, co-producer Don Cheadle is one on them. We get to see riveting scenes of Cheadle writing speeches for rallies. More embarrassing, are the home movies shot by Cheadle of his amateur diplomatic trips to China and Egypt with George Clooney on behalf of Darfur. This is basically Entertainment Tonight level stuff.

Of the six primary characters, only two are native to Darfur, but viewers see them the least. Probably the most screen time is given to Adam Sterling, a college student spearheading a campaign for California’s divestiture from Sudan. His budding idealism is admirable, but not great cinema.

Perhaps the most compelling character is Luis Moreno-Ocampo, the International Criminal Court’s prosecutor assigned to crimes against humanity and war crimes in Darfur. After a year and a half investigation, he brought provisional indictments against a high-ranking Sudanese official and a leader of the Islamic Janjaweed militia. In a telling scene, one of Ocampo’s lieutenants asks if Sudan will actually turn over anyone they indict. Another answers with words to the effect of: “of course, eventually they will have to.” Here’s a spoiler: six months after the indictments, it has not happened yet. In fact, one, Ahmad Muhammad Harun, is currently the government official in charge of Darfur refugee camps.

The timing for this film will be interesting. It will be released a week after Jonathan Demme’s hero-worshipping Jimmy Carter Man from Plains documentary hits screens. Of course, Carter recently announced to the world that what is happening in Darfur does not qualify as genocide, just really bad luck. At least, DN’s intentions are noble. Despite the film’s blind spots and weaknesses, it deserves some credit for raising awareness of the very real ongoing tragedy in Darfur. One just wishes this film had been made years earlier, and done better.

Safe and Comfy Banned Books

Independent booksellers are wrapping up the festival of congratulatory back-patting called Banned Books Week. Once again, they decline to recommend any books that have actually been banned in recent memory, instead highlighting “challenged” titles like Harry Potter, represented on both Booksense’s Banned Books Week Top 10 list and the ABFFE’s list of 100 banned or challenged books. If Harry Potter, with tens of millions of copies in print, seriously qualifies as a banned book, every author should be so banned. The hypocrisy was too thick for one indy store, who recently mocked the hoopla for its political correctness.

If booksellers wanted to actually stand up for free expression, instead of building some merchandising around hollow posturing, they would be hand-selling books by authors like Salman Rushdie, who have had fatwas issued against them by Islamic fundamentalist extremists. Indeed, The Satanic Verses would be a novel selection, since it has actually been banned. Of course, recommending legitimately banned books during Banned Books Week, might, you know, offend someone. Better to just push Harry Potter, and pretend you’re standing up to the dark specter of Christian Fundamentalism. Then there would be no consequences to worry about.

If you want to actually support banned books, try hand-selling books by the signatories of the February 2, 2006 manifesto for intellectual freedom published in response to the violent protests surrounding the Danish cartoons. Writers like Rushdie, Ayaan Hirsi Ali, Taslima Nasreen, Mehdi Mozaffari, and Irshad Manji live in constant fear for their lives because their writings have offended the sensibilities of Islamic Fascists. You will also learn a lot more about the price of free expression and the state of the world from their books than from a bubblegum YA fantasy.

(Disclosure: Rushdie and Manji have been published by a corporate cousin of my employer. Their sales have no effect on my duties or compensation.)

Lest We Forget

It has been only six years since the terrorist attacks of 9-11, but many in the creative community seem determined to forget, obscure, and deny the lessons of that event. Lest we forget, the jazz community suffered real losses that day, including one of its own. Betty Farmer, a one-time jazz vocalist working for Cantor Fitzgerald was killed that day. She started her singing career in the cradle of jazz, her hometown of New Orleans, and eventually performed with Duke Ellington. According to the New York Times’ “Portrait of Grief,” she was in the process of re-launching her performing career.

The jazz community also suffered severe economic losses as a result of 9-11. Wendy Oxenhorn of the Jazz Foundation often speaks eloquently about the number of gigs that either dried up completely, or went from paid gigs to tip-jar gigs here in the City. Charles Lloyd played a free stand at the Blue Note in an effort to encourage patrons to return to the clubs.

Make no mistake, creative artists—including jazz musicians, were attacked on September 11, 2001. For those who question whether that threat to creative expression continues, look to recent events in the Middle East. Vendors of music CDs and cassettes are literally under siege in Pakistan. Last month three Pakistani CD and video stores were bombed by Islamic extremists. Why? Music is deemed an “un-Islamic business” by Islamic-Fascists (and “entertaining female customers” is also frowned upon).

This was not a response to Iraq or Israel or any other tortured justification. It is simply another manifestation of an ideology of hate, the same motivation for the murder of 3,000 individual human beings at the World Trade Center (as Karol will be reminding people today). Therefore, we all have a stake in fighting Islamic extremist terrorists, especially musicians and other creative artists.

Today is a day to reflect and remember. We mourn the loss of Ms. Farmer and all who were senselessly murdered that day. We pray that their family and friends can find a measure of solace. Let us remember them throughout the year, and not just this day.