Movie Monday: "The Mountain Thief," a film by Gerry Balasta, 2010

By Kounosu (Own work (own picture)) via Wikimedia Commons

"The Mountain Thief," a film by Gerry Balasta, 2010.

There are always a few films that speak to the senses on a deep, personal level. Stories of humanity, particularly ones that burst open the small cultural and social bubbles we all find ourselves living in, are particularly powerful and necessary. "The Mountain Thief," I believe, should be required viewing for all college students, "first world" citizens worldwide and professed religious individuals who would seek to know and better the world. "The Mountain Thief" shows viewers what happens when communities are forced, by powers far beyond their own immediate influence, to survive on the garbage of others. These individuals find their sustenance by sifting through and reselling recyclables from the trash of the more wealthy people in the Philippines (but this plays out in so many areas across the world). It shows that conflict and community are possible in even the most trying circumstances.

What strikes me about this film is that all the actors are amateurs. In fact, all of them are scavengers in the Philippines, so this leads to an air of realism unattainable by even the most seasoned professional actors. I encourage viewers to watch to the very end, as the filmmakers describe the real lives and dreams of the actors who took part in this film. While many of their dreams may seem trivial to a first-world viewer, they show just how disparate the bounty of "modern living" is distributed throughout the world. Among a few are to cure a son's club foot, to learn to use a computer, to build a home at the foot of mountain of trash, to learn to read and write. These are things we as Americans take for granted, as an unalienable right as Americans, and things that are largely unavailable and unobtainable to many throughout the world.

The film opens as a Simon, the communities drug addict (he sniffs glue, paid for by stealing from other scavengers) is stealing a small sheet of corrugated metal from another family's makeshift roof. He is found out and runs away through a maze of shanty neighborhoods, running into Ato and Elmer on their way to the makeshift basketball court. He stumbles into Julio and his son, Ingo. They are newly arrived from a war-torn region in Mindanao, where his family owned rice fields that were burned in the fighting. They are seeking to survive through scavenging in Little Hope, the community at the foot of the trash mountain. The film makes no illusions as to the circumstances of these individuals. Survival is their daily aim, and though community exists, most are looking out for their own (and their family's) interests.

One of the best things about this film is that it pulls no punches. It also ends rather ambiguously, which may upset some viewers of modern Hollywood film-making. The film understands its own circumstances and does not give the viewer the satisfaction of a happy ending, particularly because for individuals like this film, there is no guaranteed happy ending.

You may be wondering why this film is even worth watching, as it seems to be a real downer. Well, in actuality, it kind of is, considering it is reality for many across the world. There are lighthearted moments, particularly with Ingo, who listens to the local religious zealot Ato teach about prayer, then acts it out on the highest mountain of garbage, because it is "beautiful up there, and close to the heavens." Ingo and his friend find and enjoy an unopened can of soda, a rare treat.

The film is edited to be rather artistic, as scenes will replay to emphasize the overall narrative, and some scenes will not make sense until later in the film. It reminded me a little of the film version of Gandhi, where the viewer sees the inevitable end of the film immediately, but does not understand the context until watching the entire film.

In the end, this is a very powerful statement on the state of the developing world, and asks the developed world just what our role is in perpetuating this environment. As consumers, do we have a moral obligation to address the "end" result of our consumed goods? This film also reflects on, though not explicitly, the historical circumstances that developed this environment.

Did the independence of the Philippines come too rapidly? Would the Philippines have been better off as a territory for a while longer, until basic infrastructure and stability could be achieved (like in Japan, post WWII?)

Although politics seems to play a small role in the film directly, viewers who know will recognize the handy work of corruption in the Philippines, among politicians and other wealthy families who benefit from others' poverty. But these actors care little for politics and international policy. They are looking for a few pesos to buy a little rice to feed their families for another day.

To see how you can contribute to the Mount Hope Project to help the actors in this film, see "The Mountain Thief" website here.

Stream or Purchase "The Mountain Thief" from Amazon.

Film Review: Wang Xiaoshuai's Beijing Bicycle

 

By Scottmeltzer (Own work) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

  Wang Xiaoshuai's film Beijing Bicycle covers a number of themes which other films within modern Chinese cinema tackle in various ways. The challenges brought about by change, modernity and commodities, the divide between the city and the countryside, personal relationships between classes and sexes, and the state of social structures within modern China are but a few. Taken on its own, this film is a powerful commentary on a number of institutions of modern China, but also focuses on the very human element of struggle.
  One theme which is apparent throughout the film is the challenge of rural migrants when confronted with urban living. As Barme says in the article “Bike Envy,” the film “portrays the young men and women from the country[...] as quiescent and dumb.” On a superficial level, the viewer sees Guei's character as weak in the face of adversity, in that he doesn't speak up when spoken down to. However, I believe a more sophisticated analysis coincides with Wright's view, namely that the silence of Guei, and to a lesser extent his older friend, reflects “his difference and wonderment at the city.” Furthermore, I would argue that it reflects the breakdown of communication between the two classes of “urban dweller” and “rural migrant,” in that the migrant will speak, yet no one will openly listen. It's as if the arguments would not only fall on deaf ears, but that the sheer fact that they are arguing the issues stems from an inherent characteristic of the “backward” rural population. This concept of the backwardness of rural workers segues into the concepts of stubbornness, which many people use to describe Guei.
  Stubbornness is a characteristic reflected within a number of characters within modern Chinese films, like Teacher Wei in Not One Less, or Qiu Ju in The Story of Qiu Ju. In Wang's words, the idea of stubbornness is what pulls the people through the challenges of city life. Furthermore, it reflects the harsh realities that rural people face when they move into the city. The fact that such a determined spirit is what is needed just to maintain a meager standard of living, namely for Guei to acquire and keep his bicycle and his job, reflects how stratified the economic systems have become between urban and rural areas. Similarly, we are left with questions of whether or not such a method for dealing with life is really productive. In Not One Less, the audience is left to wonder what the fate of the village chief will be, and how Qiu Ju feels about her experiences with the modern Chinese system of law. In Not One Less, the students are given new chalk, as well as some funds to (possibly) fix up the school and provide some new resources for their education. However, the audience is again left with a sense of incompleteness. Though they got a small donation, what of the rest of the time? Will the funding continue, or end when the story is no longer important? Like these characters, Guei's determination ended up getting him beaten, bruised, and his bike broken to pieces. However, it also allowed him to survive through the whole ordeal, and he did get his bike back. On the subject of the bike, the audience is left to wonder what the importance of the bike is.
  The bike represents some similar and different qualities which are important among the two boys, Jian and Guei. For Guei, the bike reflects his status in Beijing as a real resident, in that he has a job and he has some status among the urban dwellers. It further represents his livelihood, and a material good which he earned through his own hard work. Jian also uses the bike as a tool to gain status, among his friends and his girlfriend. Though he does push them away when he loses the bike, his status is severely decreased when he can't get it back. Both characters see the bicycle as a material possession, although they see it from different points of view. Additionally, the bike reflects Jian's desire to be associated with a pop culture, namely the X-Games style tricks on the bike. The materialistic and consumer society both characters face in another topic taken up within the film.
  Jian also treats his girlfriend as a material possession, completely ignoring her presence when in the arcade. In a way, both characters attack the perceived usurper of their material possession (with a brick). Guei attacks the thug who is destroying his bicycle, and Jian attacks the “Oakley Guy” who “stole” his girlfriend from him. The reflects both character's reactions to material culture, as well as their relationship to material goods. The commentary seems to be the attraction the youth have to material and consumer goods, whether it be for livelihood or entertainment. As we see with the characters of Unknown Pleasures, Jian seems to question what to do once he has all that he would want. When he is alone with his girlfriend, he attempts to get close, but can't seem to pull himself to make a move. Similarly, Guei is silenced throughout the film by the urban dwellers who challenge him. While not exactly reflecting his reactions to all his desires being met, it does reflect the arresting feeling he has at the new lifestyle.
  Beijing Bicycle was a challenging film to watch the first time through. I happened to catch it on the IFC channel long before attending this class, and didn't know what to make of it then. Now, with the benefit of practice at film analysis, as well as further knowledge of the kind of material the director wants to comment on, and the three-peat screening, I believe I have a good idea what the film was trying to say. I imagine further viewings will offer different commentaries, or a new discovery. But the film offers a great analysis of the challenges and changes happening within modern China.

Book Review: Suits Me: The Double Life of Billy Tipton, Diane Middlebrook.

By User:Villanueva at hu.wikipedia [Public domain], from Wikimedia Commons

In Suits Me: The Double Life of Billy Tipton, Ms. Middlebrook chronicles the life and career of jazz musician Billy Tipton, who began life as Dorothy Tipton. She addresses the challenges of gender identity, but also explores individual 1930s social responses to gender, and whether or not such identities were truly significant. She further investigates how gender identity significantly helped and hindered women’s access to careers during the 1930s, when women were still limited when men enjoyed nearly full access to a profession of their choice.

Ms. Middlebrook utilizes primary sources like audio tapes and photographs to piece together Tipton’s life. Her reliance on personal accounts of those who knew Billy Tipton strengthens many aspects of her argument. Such intimate details and discussions between spouses and colleagues lends itself to increased insight, particularly on the topic of sex. Some limitations include potential misrepresentation or questionable memories on the interactions, due to age or misunderstanding or personal reasons. This doesn’t belittle the value of first-person accounts, nor the strength of relying on such accounts to provide important insights. What is significant is these sources show how Tipton’s “wives” (for there was never a legal recognition of a marriage) and colleagues often didn’t know, or were largely unphased, by the birth sex of Billy Tipton, and recognized him as a loving father, partner, and musician, though very private and sometimes withdrawn.

Ms. Middlebrook chooses a chronological narrative, which works well to develop both Tipton’s transformation from Dorothy to Billy, but builds a solid foundation for understanding the circumstances surrounding his shift from Dorothy Tipton, an out of work musician, to Billy Tipton, a moderately successful jazz musician in the 1930s.

Ms. Middlebrook contributes successfully to a wealth of biographical narratives covering significant figures during the 1930s. A few contrasts to the Amelia Earhart book Still Missing seems appropriate, in light of the liberal feminist ideologies of the 1920s-1930s. Whereas Susan Ware’s book showcases prominent, talented females like Earhart and Hepburn proving sex to be no limitation to excellence, Ms. Middlebrook’s title character alters his persona to fulfill a role largely excluding women. This desire to fulfill a part Tipton felt born to perform meant securing access to the role by any means necessary. Counter to the figures of Still Missing, however, one would wonder whether Tipton’s life reflects a woman gaining access to greater independence through adopting the masculine persona, or whether Tipton’s goal was more individualistic, in that it served the purpose solely of allowing him to play jazz music. Nevertheless, what binds these two narratives together is an understanding that both Amelia Earhart and Billy Tipton built independent lives in their own way, when it was largely novel or scandalous to do so as women.

This book offers the reader insight into a little known persona, though now without one or two minor weaknesses. The action of cross-dressing and living as a person of the opposite gender seems almost benign for many socially-liberal individuals today. What seems fantastic is how Tipton managed to maintain the ruse for such a long time, especially during intimate moments with partners. Limited expansion over the motivations or reasons for Tipton transforming his identity, beyond desire to play and monetary demands from his family, seems a point of contention with this book. Though the author gives many options, it eventually falls to the reader to decide which is most plausible. Further, just how he did it, though perhaps intentionally left out due to lack of primary resources and being counter to the focus of the book. The interesting childhood, where mixed signals represented by Tipton’s father teaching her masculine activities as her mother desired a feminine daughter, meant Tipton may have been little constrained by traditional gender roles. Whether such actions make a statement about feminism in the 1930s, or mainly showcase the individual’s decision to access a profession through innovative means, perhaps becomes the book’s greater strength, to leave the reader pondering the ramifications of gender and social access to different professions.

The fact that success eluded Tipton, by his own actions, is understandable considering the chance someone would find out the truth under such media scrutiny, it almost seemed like “the game” and “the role” were more significant to Tipton than the success. Fulfilling the role of “father” and “jazz musician” became the key. The narrative is a rather quick read, also offering an easy style. A reader is left to wonder whether or not Tipton’s actions would be considered moral, given that many of the individuals present in Tipton’s life knew nothing of his true birth sex. Though such an accusation is countered by the fact that many who knew, including many individuals who played music with Tipton, show that as long as one could play, it mattered little what gender they identified with (though women were still largely prejudiced against). One almost questions whether Tipton performed a Catch Me If You Can-esque masquerade through gender deception, or if the draw to play music and live life as he saw fit was the primary, driving goal.

Recommended films: Some Like it Hot (1959), Billy Wilder; Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975), Jim Sharman; Mrs. Doubtfire (1993), Chris Columbus; To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything! Julie Newmar (1995), Beeban Kidron

Progress in Political and Social Equality, 1960-1975

"AfricanAmericans," FEastman. Licensed under Public domain via Wikimedia Commons

The US Postwar period of the 1950s through the 1970s marks a significant paradigm shift towards inclusion, at the cost of continued segregation and exclusion of African Americans and women from social status. The statement “Between 1960 and 1975, there was great progress in the struggle for political and social equality,” is essentially sound, given the circumstances, with the understanding that the path towards human equality remains a constant issue.

A number of incidents and circumstances between the Civil Rights Movement and the continued fight for women’s liberation share common cause towards equality during this period. Influenced by Martin Luther King Jr.’s influence and the aftermath of the Montgomery Bus Boycotts of the later 1950's, issues of human rights and calls for equality took a higher priority among the general social discussion.

The 1950's also saw, on a more international scale, the shift away from traditional patriarchal social norms towards a more inclusive slant, as nations began to rebuild after World War II. Emphasis on public education, and the desire to utilize all able human capital within the nation state, began to address common issues of unequal opportunity in places like Europe, the US, and Japan.

The 1960's, which contains the bulk of what we refer to as the Civil Rights Movement, further pushed the shift away from a “separate but equal” understanding in the South, with parallels to the 1950's “nuclear ideal” of women as domestic homemakers, excluded from opportunity in the larger social context.

The rise of the Vietnam War in the 1970's, coupled with the continued counter-culture movement against established cultural norms, as well as the climax of total desegregation within the Civil Rights Movement’s efforts in 1969, further influenced the liberation and shedding of many social norms aimed at women. Additionally, the US government under Jimmy Carter moved towards emphasizing human rights as a federal policy, thus addressing lingering issues of inequality among women and African Americans.

Honestly, the work is still continuing in the call for honest reevaluation in equality among people. With the United States being such a pluralistic society, with many ethnic identities and cultural interactions, the issue of what is “fair” and “equitable” will likely shift with current circumstances. Issues of unequal pay still plague women in the workplace, while minorities are still largely over-represented among the population in crime statistics and underrepresented among education statistics. Unfair targeting of specific ethnic groups represents the ongoing battle between crime prevention and invasion of fundamental civil rights. Finding concrete answers to these lingering issues will continue to challenge the people as we move into the next generations.

Recommended Films: American History X, Tony Kaye; Malcolm X, Spike Lee;

Book Review: Still Missing: Amelia Earhart and the Search for Modern Feminism, Susan Ware.

[Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons via http://e-archives.lib.purdue.edu/

Book Review: Susan Ware. Still Missing: Amelia Earhart and the Search for Modern Feminism. New York: W.W. Norton & Company. 1993. $19.13.

Susan Ware’s book Still Missing: Amelia Earhart and the Search for Modern Feminism argues that Earhart, while most certainly an exceptional example of young womanhood during the 1920's, was definitely a product of time and place. Earhart reflected the rising understanding of liberal feminism, specifically that by showcasing the talents and abilities of the exceptional individual, the entire gender would adjust minds by “proving” the category “woman” held no inherent handicap in achievement.

Ware’s strength is in her choice of chronological structuring of her text. Earhart’s philosophies seem to develop organically, particularly between the period of 1928-1937, although not limited to this range. By taking a chronological approach, Ware is able to build the drama of the tale, though we all know what the outcome will be. Nevertheless, Ware’s narrative is not about the end result, but the significance of the journey and the substance of Earhart’s life. Chronology also allows Ware to showcase, in her chapter “Popular Heroines/ Popular Culture” other women who occupy the same exceptional, liberal feminist pantheon of legends, particularly Katherine Hepburn, Dorothy Thompson, and Eleanor Roosevelt, to name a few. These case studies further emphasis on individuals as exceptional examples of possibility for women.

Ware structures her argument organically. This emphasizes clarity in understanding in a linear fashion. One strength here is this very clarity and understanding, as we understand time moving in a linear way. A weakness may be the temptation of thinking the events of Earhart’s life and philosophy were inevitable, or though the author goes to lengths emphasizing at different levels when things may have taken a turn (such as Earhart’s choice to marry G.P. Putnam, or her decision not to have children, or her choice of doing a world-wide flight in 1936-7).

Ware successfully utilizes primary source documents, particularly the words of Earhart herself, to emphasize her brand of liberal feminism and how her words and deeds sparked the imagination of possibility among vast numbers of young women. Ware’s argument suggesting how Earhart’s words and actions supported her aims of expanding women’s access is further supported through her use of unpublished primary source documents like private correspondence, that further emphasizes not only Earhart’s steadfast support of liberal feminist philosophies (avoiding sex-based laws of help or hindrance) remain behind the cameras as much as before them. Even given the limited availability of other primary sources, due to fire at Earhart’s home, Ware does successfully utilize the sources available and seems to mine them very well to emphasize her arguments.

This book encourages the reader to not think of Earhart as a legend, though she certainly was an exceptional individual and a fantastic self-promoter (also thanks to G.P. Putnam. Ware wants us to consider her as a product of 1920's liberal feminism, and as a larger-than-life hero to so many young ladies who see the possibilities within the context of this specific society. Earhart represents these possibilities, and showcases, as the main thrust of this book emphasizes time and again, that women of the 1920's wanted an exceptional example of what women could do, and women like Earhart, Roosevelt, and Hepburn reflected this want. It also emphasizes that liberal feminism was the vogue way of looking at  women’s roles within society and the workplace (among white, middle-class women and their fans). It wasn't sex that one should focus on, but the individual ability and talents, regardless of sex. Nevertheless, the book does not gloss over Earhart’s limitations, nor the limits of liberal feminism. Both Earhart and liberal feminists were largely white, middle-class or upper-middle class, individuals with exceptional talent and exceptional opportunity. The plight of minority women, particularly African-American women and economically disadvantaged women, whose options to excel seemed particularly limited.

In conclusion, Ware’s book expands upon the understanding of Earhart as feminist, and avoids further expansion on Earhart the legend. Ware succeeds at contextualizing Earhart, which is the main emphasis of her text. Earhart was reflective of liberal feminist thought, her contributions unfortunately overshadowed by her unsolved disappearance. Ware ends with a treatment of why Earhart might have taken that last flight, as a publicity stunt for a slumping career or as an answer to the social shift away from 1920's feminine heroes towards 1940's suppression of mass feminist movements. Earhart’s potentialities were not diminished had she successfully returned from her flight, and Ware wonders whether she would have taken a post at Purdue as a researcher or counselor, or taken another aviation-oriented “second career.” One wonders whether or not we would even be studying her had she not disappeared!

Ware’s case studies of other women further places Earhart within a context, although does not bog the reader down in details unnecessary for her main purpose, which is greatly appreciated. It is a fine example of blending narrative and scholarship to produce a product that will appeal to academic and layman historian, although academic historians will likely find particular points of critique, as with any text.