Spell it like it is
by
Howard Schumann
In the U.S., thousands of students participate each year
in spelling competitions that begin on a school, local, and regional
level and end with the Scripps-Howard National Spelling Bee finals in
Washington, DC, an American institution since 1925. The Oscar-nominated
documentary Spellbound, directed by Jeffrey Blitz, follows
eight children, ages 12 to 14, from their preparation for the 1999 competitions
through to the finals. The director traveled all over the country to
select students from diverse socio-economic and ethnic backgrounds and
chose those he thought had the best chance of success. Though we do
not really know what drives these children to endure long hours of study
to compete in the Spelling Bee, it is apparent that they are single-minded
in their purpose.
One
of the contestants is Angela, from Perryton, Texas, the child of Mexican
immigrants whose parents don't speak English. Her brother tells us that
his father's dreams will be answered if Angela wins the National. Another
contestant is Ashley, an inner city black girl from Washington, DC.
who does not have the resources and study aids that other contestants
do, but has a strong motivation to succeed. Her mother says that it
was the happiest day of her life when her daughter won the Regionals.
Blitz depicts the family life of the children, while observing the rigorous
training and preparation each of them undergoes. Most are normal adolescents,
but some say they feel like outcasts because they are so intellectually
advanced. To them, the Bee is a place where they can come together with
others like themselves and experience a mutual pride in intellectual
achievement.
Some
parents are involved to an extraordinary degree. One example is the
father of Neil, an Indo-American boy from San Clemente, California who
goes to the extraordinary measure of paying thousands of people in his
home country of India to chant and pray for his son's victory. He spends
hours each day working with Neil, and has him privately tutored by French,
Spanish and German instructors. Remarkably, the father pledges $5000
to feed hungry Indians if his son wins.
The
first hour introduces the children, and the last thirty minutes shows
us the actual competition. As we watch the drama unfold, the kids must
spell words like "cephalalagia," "mattock," "corollary," "hellebore,"
and "banns" in order to stay in the competition. Blitz masterfully builds
the tension by cutting away from the child spelling a word to an earlier
interview that illuminates an aspect of their personality. The result
is that our attachment to the children is intensified as the film progresses.
By the end of the film we each have our favorites, though we know that
with only one winner out of 249 children, heartbreak likely awaits.
Spellbound
explores the fabric of American society in a way that is deeply rewarding.
Despite the disparate social and economic backgrounds of the film's
principals, there is unity among them, as they pursue what is often
described as the "American dream." For each family, the Spelling championship
symbolizes something much larger than a mere contest over words, becoming,
in fact, a metaphor for hope. The egalitarian nature of the competition
supports the American ideal that one can transcend one's social strata
through hard work, and in this sense, the contest is quintessentially
American. It is this, perhaps, that accounts for the passionate, and
even desperate urgency with which the families pursue the title. Spellbound
is a thoughtful inquiry into the enduring myths of our culture, and
speaks to the insistent hope for a better life that remains at the heart
of the American experience.
When
I heard that Whale Rider was about gender empowerment
in an aboriginal culture and had the tagline "one young girl dared to
confront the past, change the present, and determine the future," I
thought it would be another example of predictable formula entertainment.
Surprisingly however, the new film by Niki Caro transcends the limitations
of its genre and delivers a genuinely moving tribute to the unique language
and culture of the Maori, the aboriginal tribes of New Zealand.
Based
on a novel by Maori writer Witi Ihimaera, it is the story of Paikea
(Keisha Castle-Hughes), a 12-year old girl who seeks to overcome a thousand-year
tradition and become the first female to assume the leadership of her
people. According to the legend of the Ngati Konohi tribe, their ancestor
Paikea founded their village in the 8th century after arriving on the
back of a whale, and from that time tribal chiefs have been exclusively
the first born male descendant of the ancestral line.
The
film begins with tragedy. Paikea narrates "When I was born, my twin
brother died and took our mother with him." The tragedy leaves the tribe
without a chief when Koro dies, since girls are not considered to be
proper leaders. Pai's father Porourangi (Cliff Curtis), unwilling to
endure the badgering by his own father Koro (Rairi Paratene) to produce
a male heir, abruptly takes off for Europe, leaving the infant Pai to
be raised by Koro and Nanny Flowers (Vicky Haughton), a worldly-wise
and quietly supportive grandmother. After ten years have passed, Koro,
resigned to the fact that his son will never produce a male heir, begins
training local boys in the rituals and tasks associated with being a
tribal chief. Koro is obstinate in defending the traditions of the tribe,
believing that "you don't mess around with sacred things", and excludes
Pai from the training sessions because she is a girl. Pai, however,
furtively watches the boys go through their rituals, learns the language,
songs, and history of her people, and readies herself for the opportunity
to prove to Koro that she is the only one with a mystic connection to
the whales.
As
a test to see who is ready to become chief, Koro takes the boys out
on his boat and throws his symbol of leadership - the tooth of a whale
overboard, asking the boys to retrieve it. Though no one passes the
test, Koro remains determined not to back down on his commitment to
finding a male heir, keeping the film at a high level of tension through
to its gripping conclusion. Though Whale Rider is at times heavy-handed
in its portrayal of Koro's intractability, it succeeds because of its
honesty and the natural ability of Keisha Castle-Hughes to make Pai's
character come alive. It is her willingness to overlook the shortsightedness
of her elders and remain focused on her purpose and the needs of her
people that makes the film a memorable experience. Whale Rider is
a simple story, and a rare delight for children and parents, inspiring
us to get in touch with the traditions of our own culture.
Focusing
on three centuries of Russian history, from Peter the Great to Tsar
Nicholas II, Russian Ark, the latest film by Alexander
Sokurov, is an amazing tour de force. Shot in one long 96-minute tracking
shot with a cast of 2000 actors and extras, the film takes the viewer
into the great Hermitage Collection in St. Petersburg, Russia, showing
real works of art from 33 rooms and exploring their meaning in a larger
context. More than just a great technical achievement, this is also
a sublime meditation on the individual's place in the universe, one
that does not recreate history but allows us to revisit it on a dreamlike
stage where past, present, and future are one.
The
film begins in the dark with the narrator (apparently Sokurov) commenting
about how little he sees. "My eyes are open", he says, "and yet I see
nothing." He does not know where he is but apparently has just died
in an accident of some kind. "Is this a movie? A play?" he asks.
He receives no answer except a vision of 18th century aristocrats moving
slowly into the Tsar's palace. An elegant white-haired man in a black
cloak (Sergey Dreiden) suddenly appears and escorts the confused narrator
into the corridors of the grand palace. "Everyone knows the present,
but who can remember the past," says the stranger, as they walk from
one ballroom to the next, witnessing great works of art as well as ghost-like
presences from Russia's past. We see works by El Greco, Rubens and Van
Dyck in their awesome splendor. We run into Peter the Great thrashing
a general, Catherine the Great looking for the bathroom, and Nicholas
II, the last Russian Tsar hosting the Great Royal Ball of 1913, the
last such formal occasion of its kind.
As
we enter the Great Nicholas Hall, the opulent room is filled with thousands
of aristocrats dancing the mazurka in gorgeous period costumes. A full
orchestra is playing in the background and young soldiers are nattily
dressed in their uniforms. How beautiful it all seems, and how it appears
they were destined to live forever - but we all know how the nasty Bolsheviki
spoiled the party. Sokurov said he wanted to make a whole film "in one
breath" and he has succeeded in simulating the breathing process, pulling
us in, then moving us out, as we feel the rhythm of our life beating
with the swirl of lost humanity. At the end, there is the peaceful flow
of a river outside the hall to which the narrator comments, "The flow
is forever. Life is forever." Having completed the past, our invisible
guide is now ready to move into the endless silence that is, in the
phrase of the Anglican priest Thomas Kelly, "the source of all sound."
©2003 Howard Schumann
CineScene
