Power
Play
by Chris Dashiell
Giving the lie to the assumption that a film about economics
has to be boring, The Corporation, a documentary by Mark
Achbar and Jennifer Abbott, explores, with rigorous intelligence and
energy, many aspects of the institution that has come to dominate our
world.
Mainstream
economics assumes that the power of the corporation is founded in some
sort of natural law -- that the "free market" is a basic and essential
element of human society that works best without regulation. The film
demonstrates that corporations were originally granted authority by
the government for specific purposes, and had a limited time frame.
After the Civil War, by an ingenious interpretation of the Fourteenth
Amendment, corporations won a Supreme Court decision declaring them
to have the legal rights of a "person." This led to the ever-expanding
power of an entity that no longer owed obligations to anyone but its
stockholders.
One
surprising fact revealed here is that a corporation is actually legally
bound to do nothing that would interfere with the profit interests of
its investors. The film incorporates this fact in a way that is fresh
and insightful. There is no demonization of individuals here, as if
the problem was simply a moral one concerning selfishness or greed.
The focus is instead on the principles inherent in the institution --
it's the system that is faulty, not the people. Among the film's many
talking-head interviews are not only anti-corporate thinkers and activists
such as Noam Chomsky and Naomi Klein, but pro-corporate CEOs, economists,
and other business people, whose pronouncements often confirm the same
ideas put forward by corporate critics. The film itself is unabashedly
critical, but its presentation of other views, without sarcasm, is effective
in making the film more comprehensive.
The
picture's cleverest idea (probably hatched by screenwriters Joel Bakan
and Harold Crooks) is to ask, in effect, "If a corporation is legally
a person, what kind of a person is it?" and then to make a list of psychological
traits (inability to feel remorse or accept responsibility, complete
self-absorption, insensitivity to possible harm caused to others, etc.)
as evidenced by numerous examples of corporate behavior. The conclusion,
according to the standard diagnostic manual, is that the corporation,
considered as a "person" would be classified as a psychopath.
At
a fairly swift pace, with inventive use of graphics, and the occasional
amusing (yet informative) use of old training and propaganda films,
Achbar and Abbot zero in on different aspects of corporate activity,
from Monsanto's suppression of a news story exposing the dangers of
a drug used on dairy cows, through IBM complicity in the Nazi death
camps, to the brutality and exploitation of sweatshops and the marketing
of products to children (with an advertising expert extolling the "power
of nagging" by children to get their parents to buy stuff). The details
are fascinating, for the most part, and they well illustrate the more
general arguments. This is a model for how a documentary can be both
partisan and educational.
And
it's not a complete downer, either. The final section turns, naturally,
to what people can do about the situation, and there are examples offered
of hope and inspiration, such as the interviews with CEO Ray Anderson,
who became a convert to environmentalism, or the story of how the people
in Bolivia defeated an IMF-sponsored scheme to privatize their water.
The Corporation invokes understanding and commitment, rather
than mere outrage, succeeding in conveying a message that will energize
viewers to do something positive to help effect sorely needed change.
Jonathan
Demme has had a love affair with Haiti for close to twenty years --
he's produced several documentaries about the political and social problems
of that impoverished country, and he helped found the organization Artists
for Democracy in Haiti. On the heels of last year's coup comes The
Agronomist, Demme's portrait of Haitian activist and champion
of free speech radio Jean Dominique. The title refers to Dominique's
original profession -- his interest in agricultural led to a concern
for the plight of the Haitian farmer, and by a series of fortuitous
circumstances, to the founding of Radio Haiti, an independent news station
that became a voice of opposition to dictatorship.
Dominique
was quite a personality -- in the film's numerous interviews he usually
seems boisterous and full of humor, even in the worst situations. Short
and wiry, his endlessly voluble and energetic style is enough to charm
anyone with a heart. He was very popular in Haiti, but not with the
military or the brutal "tonton macoutes" -- the thugs who kept the order
for the Duvaliers and their later incarnations.
The
efforts of Dominique and his courageous wife, Michele Montas, serve
as a springboard for Demme to present an overview of Haitian political
history since the American occupation of the island in the early 20th
century. The radio station flourished in the 70s, when Jimmy Carter's
human rights policies kept "Baby Doc" Duvalier in check. But when Reagan
came to power, Dominique says, "the cowboy was back in the White House,"
and persecutions began, ending with the destruction of the station and
the exile of Dominique and Montas in New York. After protests led to
the end of Duvalier's rule in 1986, Dominique returned home again. The
greeting he received by an ecstatic crowd at the airport is one of the
film's most affecting scenes.
The
election of populist priest Jean-Bertrand Aristide in 1990 was supported
by Dominique, and Aristide's overthrow in a military coup a year later
led to another exile. He returned to rebuild the station once again
after Aristide was restored to power. In later years we see him becoming
increasingly critical of Aristide's government, questioning him rather
severely in a radio interview. In 2000, during another presidential
campaign, the 69-year-old Dominique was assassinated in the driveway
of his station. The killers have never been brought to justice.
Demme
has constructed his film from newsreel footage and interviews, some
of them by Demme himself. The Agronomist is a tribute to the
irrepressible little man who believed in the power of radio, and to
the Haitian people who believed in him. It ends on a slyly triumphant
note, with Montas announcing on the air that Dominique is not actually
dead, but has been spotted in various places in Haiti, laughing and
swapping stories with peasants. It would seem that broadcasting a legend
is one way of affirming the truth.
One
person's inspiration is another person's indigestion, or so it would
seem from What the #$*! Do We Know!?, a film by William
Arntz, Betsy Chasse, and Mark Vicente. This word-of-mouth hit purports
to be about quantum physics, and it features some interesting snippets
of interviews with leading scientists. But I knew I was in trouble when
the film kept detouring into weak episodic lessons on life featuring
a fictional character played by Marlee Matlin.
The
picture is positing quantum physics as a sort of self-help technique
-- taking ideas about the role of consciousness in the universe and
drawing vague and simplistic conclusions about creating our own reality.
The scientific ideas are provocative, yet the filmmakers don't bother
to seriously explore the implications, opting instead for a lot of pseudo-mystical
rhetoric, combined with cute animation and tiresome attempts at building
a story around Matlin's empty character. It's revealing that, although
there are fourteen scientists being interviewed, the person who gets
the most time is a channeler -- J.Z. Knight, who calls the spirit she
"channels" Ramtha, and talks a lot of artificially elevated
bunk.
There's
also a long wedding scene that is somehow supposed to illustrate the
action of neuropeptides, among other things, and here the filmmakers'
attempts at humor are blatantly sexist. Is this the New Age? What
the #$*! Do We Know!? isn't doing quantum physics any favors, that's
for sure. I found it incredibly shallow, condescending, and dull. Yes,
the ideas in quantum physics agree in many respects with the age-old
insights of Eastern religion and philosophy. A good film could have
been made from this, but only if it respected the intelligence of the
audience. This film is like a spiritual pep rally for the ignorant.
It wants to dazzle rather than help us understand, and I've learned
that dazzle wears off pretty quickly. So does this movie.
©2004 Chris Dashiell
CineScene