“Making something out of nothing” is what filmmaker Mira Nair called the Filmmaking workshop that she was doing in the spring of 1999 in Cape Town South Africa. The bulk of the students were from the black and “colored” townships way outside the city and traveled more than an hour each day for their two-week initiation to cinema. It was the dawn of the post apartheid years and they were pregnant with compelling and amazing stories that they wanted to bring into the world either through narratives or documentaries. For decades, generations before them had their voices stifled, and they were fighting to finally become the narrators of their own history and had chosen filmmaking as their weapon. And I was there to film that process. “Show, don’t tell, make films that are accessible to you, be inspired by what’s immediate, cut your cloth”.
Tag: Haiti
Although I understand it in terms of the dictates of the infrastructure, it has always surprised me that we don’t have more films that are truly about politics and the world we live in. It seems that creators are afraid to even wade in those waters. That can not be said about filmmaker Raoul Peck, who will be in NYC this weekend to present his latest feature “Moloch Tropical” at The Human Rights Festival. I couldn’t resist asking him about the need for film to address politics, about where his inspirations come from. Today’s guest post is from Raoul, in reply.
I will always remember one of these rare press conference of then President GW Bush on the eve or after the bombardment of Bagdad by American forces. In the room the best and brightest mind of the world press. In particular the US pundits known for their incorruptible defense of freedom of speech.
And there we were, with a president obviously lying every single lines of his declaration, with nobody having enough guts to ask even one hard question, let alone to counter his transparent lies.
We came to a point where words didn’t mean anything anymore.
Flash forward, …years later in December 2008, the same president, another press conference, in Iraq.
There, for the lack of a better “word” to address the – again – lying president, this young journalist throw his shoe at him.
It was the only answer possible: absurdity, derision, ridicule.
With these same feelings I started to work on “Moloch Tropical”.
The ritual of democracy had reached such a cynical point, that only derision and irony could really address it.