Margaret Mead ’15: Matria

They were spryer, but the 100,000 man-strong volunteer defense force of traditional Mexican charro rodeo riders were about as unlikely a fighting force as Dad’s Army. Of course, it was all for show. Oaxaca Congressman and National Charro Association president Antolin Jimenez was the showman behind it. He was also filmmaker Fernando Llanos’s grandfather. Despite his prominence, Llanos’s family never really talked about the old man, so he conducts a personal investigation into his family history in Matria (trailer here), which screens during the 2015 Margaret Mead Film Festival at the American Museum of Natural History.

Jimenez was about as colorful as you can get. As a young man, he quickly rose to become one of Pancho Villa’s most trusted lieutenants. However, he could see the writing on the wall and therefore proactively planned his exit strategy. Basically, he sold out for a government position and gold. He did well for himself, eventually representing Oaxaca in congress on three separate occasions. He also became the leader of the charros, even though he was personally all hat and no cattle. However, he was a cold, distant person, so many in his family still have trouble dealing with his legacy. In fact, that is true of both his families.

Regardless of Llanos’s personal issues (Jimenez died soon after his birth), it is impossible to get bored with his grandfather’s roguishly eventful life. Considering the film really started as his journey of discovery, Llanos mostly takes himself out of the picture, rather conscientiously. Viewers certainly get a sense of what opportunities were available for an ethically flexible adventurer in early Twentieth Century Mexico. Llanos even finds a way to shoehorn in a performance from Lila Downs (a veteran of the Oaxaca music scene), who sounds lovely as ever.

Llanos balances the tension between the angst of his family drama and the Flashman-like appeal of Jimenez’s exploits relatively well. In the process, he gives us a perspective on bourgeoisie Mexico that we rarely get to see. Along with Llanos, we do come to appreciate Jimenez for all his flaws. In fact, it is easy to believe things would be better if he were still representing Oaxaca and cutting political deals. Even though it is just over an hour in length, the pacing is a tad inconsistent (and Llanos is bizarrely preoccupied with Jimenez’s Masonic membership), but the charro leader’s story is still intriguing enough to pull viewers through. Recommended for those fascinated by strange but true history, Matria screens this Sunday (10/25), as part of the AMNH’s Margaret Mead Film Festival.

Margaret Mead ’15: Land of Songs

For the better part of the Twentieth Century, the Soviet Union gave the Baltic States the Blues. Lithuanians responded by singing their traditional folks songs—and engaging in armed resistance. Sibling filmmakers Aldona and Julian Watts journeyed to their grandmother’s Lithuanian homeland, to record the Dainava region’s folksongs for posterity in Land of Songs (trailer here), which screens during the 2015 Margaret Mead Film Festival at the American Museum of Natural History.

The Dainava ladies might be getting on in years, but they are no shrinking violets. Yet, they join together in song remarkably harmoniously. As in Estonia, Lithuanian folk songs played a major role in the revolution against Communism, but unlike the massive Laulupidu song festival in Tallinn (as seen in The Singing Revolution), which remains a hugely significant national cultural event, the folk singing tradition appears to be falling out of favor with younger Lithuanians.

There are some eerily evocative performance by the distinguished ladies of the Ethnographic Ensemble of Puvočiai that seem to harken back to some mystical time before time. However, they cannot match triumphant emotional crescendo of the massive Laulipidu performances. Still, the film really starts to come together when they link the Dainava folk songs with the Forest Brothers resistance movement. It is pretty significant to watch and listen to the Partisan veteran code-named “Tiger” singing some of their patriotic anthems in the bunker that was once his home. The Watts (director Aldona & cinematographer-co-producer Julian) also incorporate some wonderfully striking archival photos of their subjects that really give viewers a sense of the dramatic sweep of their lives.

Land of Songs is a lovely film that captures the idyllic beauty of the Dainava region (a.k.a. “The Land of Songs”) and the sly humor of its residents. It offers some solid history and accessible ethnomusicology. Frankly, Land really deserves to be picked up for a national audience on PBS stations (and with its sixty minute running time, the film could easily accommodate their broadcast schedules), but for now, look for it on the festival circuit. Highly recommended, Land of Songs screens this Friday afternoon (10/23) with the short doc The Ladies, as part of the AMNH’s Margaret Mead Film Festival.

Margaret Mead ’15: East Punk Memories

Anarchy was all very well for the UK, but not for the Captive Nations of the Warsaw Pact. Of course, that only made Hungary’s early 1980s underground punk movement embrace the music and its nihilistic ethos with ever greater fervor. Having secretly documented them in their prime on Super 8, Lucile Chaufour returned three decades later to see how angry and rebellious they still were in East Punk Memories (clip here), which screens during the 2015 Margaret Mead Film Festival at the American Museum of Natural History.

The Communist authorities did not like punk—and the feeling was mutual. Homegrown Hungarian punk bands verbally smashed the state every night with politically charged lyrics, such as: “you’re just a street kid, you’ll never be party secretary” and “Communist drug, no seduction needed.” You sort of need to hear them in the original Hungarian for the full effect.

Several of the survivors of the Hungarian punk scene speak without nostalgia for the frequent feeling they experienced during the Socialist era that they were being followed (which they often were). Nobody is ready to shed a tear for Communism, but many are pointedly disappointed with the austerity and rising nationalism that followed. One former punk probably speaks for them all when he tells Chaufour he would not want to relive the Soviet years or the current era.

Yet, indirectly but unmistakably, Chaufour and several interview subjects hint that the punk movement might be partially responsible for the current state of things. It seems a legit skinhead faction eventually split off from the Hungarian punk scene, apparently reading too much into Sid Vicious’s swastika. You have to wonder if the current public discourse would be better if they had focused more on the black flag.

Perhaps, it is also telling that nearly every former punker is holding a beer in their “after” interviews. That is the Eastern Europe I know and love. Introspection and candor are also healthy, so maybe the former punkers are ready to help Hungary take the next step. The depth of their insights is somewhat inconsistent, but it is still an intriguing and appropriately grungy film. Recommended for Cold War punkers, the fifty-one minute East Punk Memories screens this Friday night (10/23), as part of the AMNH’s Margaret Mead Film Festival.

Margaret Mead ’15: Double Happiness

What does China want? Pretty much the whole world. They tried copying the best parts in Beijing World Park, as seen in Jia Zhangke’s The World, but the results are a little kitschy. However, they were much more ambitious and thorough when secretly replicating the Austrian lakefront village Hallstatt, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Both Chinese and Austrian observers wrestle with the cultural significance of the Guangdong Hallstatt in Ella Raidel’s Double Happiness (trailer here), which screens during the 2015 Margaret Mead Film Festival at the American Museum of Natural History.

When Hallstatt hotelier Monika Wenger discovered her guest was a Chinese architect working to copy her picturesque inn and the rest of the city’s picture-postcard market square, she was understandably put out. After all tourism is her business. She has since resigned herself to the situation, because what choice does she have? Hallstatt’s mayor chose to embrace the project, hoping it would generate more Chinese tourist trade, but that seems optimistic. Provocatively, one Beijing talk show host finds ironic logic in the project, arguing since China has destroyed its past, it must now copy other countries’ historical landmarks.

Yet, Hallstatt, China is just a jumping off point for a larger consideration of urban planning—a noble pursuit Shenzhen planner Wu Wenyuan finds nearly impossible because of the Special Economic Zone’s explosive growth. Frankly, it is perfect example of the folly of centralized planning. By the time her department’s Soviet-style long-range plans are officially approved (a process that apparently takes years, not months), the population projections prove to be hopelessly inadequate.

Frustratingly, there are questions beyond the obvious issues of cultural appropriation Happiness largely ignores, such as the environmental impact of the construction process. The fact that the project was developed by the mining company China Minmetals might not inspire tremendous confidence on that score, yet the systemic environmental degradation of China is only tangentially referenced. Also, the implications of copying the iconic architecture of the Evangelical Church of Hallstatt without respect to its sacred function is problematic, but churchy kind of stuff does not seem to interest Raidel.

Still, there is an eccentric charm to the film’s impressionistic interludes, featuring actress Yaki Cang as our audience surrogate. Raidel also has a remarkable sense of composition, capturing some incredible images of Hallstatt in Austria and China. In some ways, Happiness has a greater kinship with Jia’s 24 City, because of its concern for hyper development and hybrid structure. It has its flaws, but Double Happiness also delivers some intriguing visuals and commentary. It is recommended on balance, especially since it screens with the entertaining short doc China Remix this Friday (10/23), as part of the AMNH’s Margaret Mead Film Festival.

Margaret Mead ’15: China Remix (short)

There is no pathway to citizenship in China, but there are plenty of immigrants. For instance, Guangzhou is now known as the center of China’s West African expat population. While many work as traders, shipping clothes and consumer electronics back to their clients for a small commission, some enterprising African hip hop musicians have found success catering to this growing market. Yet, despite their superior hipness, they face the same legal barriers. Melissa Lefkowitz & Dorian Carli-Jones follow three such performers as they go about their lives and business in China Remix (trailer here), which screens during the 2015 Margaret Mead Film Festival at the American Museum of Natural History.

Dibaocha, Flame Ramadan, and Ivan Manivoo have all found varying degrees of success in Guangzhou. The former two artists already have a number of releases to their credit. Dibaocha is particularly well-established, as both the godfather of the local hip hop scene and the father of two, with his Chinese wife, Cherrish (yes, with two r’s). Yet, Manivoo a student leader as well as a rapper and an all-purpose wheeler-dealer, probably has the brightest future. Yet, their music careers are all essentially off-the-books.

Clearly, Dibaocha has put down roots, but he still must go to great lengths to renew his visa. As a result, he is by far the most vocal in his criticism of Chinese immigration policies. Of course, anyone hoping the CP will loosen up is delusional, especially when their internal Hukou system of residency permits forbids native born rural Chinese from legally working in big cities.

Indeed, if one thing comes shining through China Remix with crystal clarity it is the spectacular class stratifications and disparities of contemporary China. If you doubt it, take a gander at the Victoria’s Secret fashion show produced to celebrate the opening of a luxury condo high-rise in Guangzhou. Manivoo certainly seems to enjoy the gig when hired to rap as the models strut down the runway, but it constitutes conspicuous commercialism, even by Manhattan standards.

Since it clocks in just under thirty minutes, China Remix can hardly be exhaustive, but it dives into its subjects’ world with both feet. We get a sense of the energy of the Guangzhou hip hop and African music scenes, as well as the attitudes of the immigrant community. Lefkowitz & Carli-Jones keep the pace brisk and give viewers a good taste of the music in question, which the performers would probably appreciate. Well worth seeing, China Remix screens this Friday (10/23) with Double Happiness, as part of this year’s Margaret Mead Film Festival.